


Fear of the Dark - Part One

by orphan_account



Series: Fear of the Dark [1]
Category: Bruce Dickinson - Fandom, Iron Maiden (Band), Janick Gers - Fandom, Rock Music RPF
Genre: A.U., AlternateUniverse, Bandslash, Heavy Metal, M/M, Male Slash, MusicandBands, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This story is AU Slash.When Bruce walked into the homeless shelter that night he expected it to be no different from the dozens of others he'd spent the night in and he expected the slim blonde man who volunteered there to be no different from the sanctimonious do-gooders he knew all too well. Something about this man seemed different, though.





	Fear of the Dark - Part One

Prologue

Bruce had taken refuge from the winter night in a sheltered alcove in an alley behind a bar.  Homeless since his mid-teens, Bruce had gotten by on his wits for years, sometimes working odd jobs but more often either begging or stealing to survive.  Now in his mid-twenties he was jaded, world-weary beyond his years, and had resigned himself to hardship. This wasn't the first night he had slept on the streets and he knew it wouldn't be his last.

It was a cool night but he was used to that. Earlier that night the bar patrons bought him several beers in exchange for his singing songs they requested so he fell asleep with little trouble curled in a corner under the ragged blanket he kept in the frayed backpack that held everything he owned in the world.  He wasn't sure what had awakened him, some sound perhaps, and at first he merely huddled closer in the blanket, thinking sleepily that it had grown much colder, then he heard the sound again. It was a scuffling sound and there was a quality to it that brought Bruce instantly awake. Cautiously he peered around the edge of the recessed doorway he’d sheltered in.

Further up the alley he made out two figures, a taller one who appeared to be dragging a smaller man along by the arm. The smaller man struggled and as Bruce watched he broke free, only getting a few steps before his captor caught him. There was a violent movement, then the smaller man slumped to the pavement. The attacker briefly turned Bruce’s way and he shrank back further into the shadows, watching as the man cleaned a knife on the fallen man’s jacket before carelessly sauntering away. Without looking Bruce knew the fallen man was dead. Though he had been living on the streets for nearly ten years Bruce had never before been this close to violent death. His heart was hammering in his chest. He had to get out of this city.

 

Chapter One

 

Two years passed since Bruce witnessed the murder in the London alley and he had fled the city, staying in smaller cities and towns to ply his trade of busking for meals and shelter. When he could he found temporary work, manual labor requiring no skill, only strength. He had no skills but was well built, though not tall, and as soon as he’d earned enough to tide him over he would move on. When he couldn’t find work his nimble fingers and talent for being inconspicuous could be relied upon. He only stole when he felt he had little choice but there had been many times when he had to resort to that to survive. Sometimes months would go by without locating a regular source of income but Bruce made his way in the world much as he had for years, often resorting to begging and singing for meals and drinks, sleeping in homeless shelters or wherever he could. 

He drifted aimlessly with no particular destination and eventually worked his way northeast and he had been undergoing a long dry spell, unable to find any work of any kind. It was a particularly cold winter, and after spending two weeks in Leeds the authorities advised him in no uncertain terms that if he did not move on he could be arrested as a vagrant. So he moved on to a smaller city to the north. For the first few days he had been able to get enough to eat by singing requests at a pub and was allowed to sleep in a storage shed behind the business but then the pub's owners got wind of it and the bartender was threatened with the sack if he didn't ask Bruce to move on. It was too cold to sleep in the streets and Bruce heard the bar patrons mention a homeless shelter, apparently the only one in the city, so as dusk fell after a day of attempting to pick pockets of Christmas shoppers he found his way to the shelter which was housed in a former dance studio adjacent to a senior citizen's center.

It was similar to countless other places of the kind that Bruce had been to. Long trestle tables were set up where groups of other indigents were gathered over the free coffee, cocoa, or soup provided for them, and in the rear of the building were two dormitory-style rooms with bunks, one for families and women, the other strictly for men. Bruce stood near the door looking around when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Welcome. Help yourself to some hot soup or something to drink."

He turned and came face to face with a slender blonde man of approximately his own age. "You work here?"

"I volunteer here three days a week” the young man told him. "Is there anything in particular you need? We have showers in the back and you can look through our donated clothing if you're in need of something warmer." The young man glanced at Bruce's inadequate coat and well-worn jeans.

Bruce felt a prickle of irritation. This man's soft voice and gentle eyes belied his appearance. His hair was as long as Bruce's own, though his was a golden brown. It was unusual for a man of his age to work at a shelter, they were usually manned by wives of community leaders or older men overseeing the charity which operated the shelter. The fact that this blonde man was volunteering here added to his solicitous words triggered Bruce's instincts. He had an instinctive mistrust of these goody-goody types and often found it amusing to taunt them until they lost their temper. He found it entertaining when these people would get so exasperated with them they cursed and shouted. They were all hypocrites, he thought, and he enjoyed harassing them until they showed their true colors. It would be amusing to goad this man into a rage, he thought.

Bruce watched the slender blonde until the former left at midnight, being replaced by a burly middle-aged volunteer who would oversee the shelter for the remainder of the night. This was typical, Bruce knew. Most shelters were manned by someone who could act as a sort of enforcer in case someone arrived under the influence of drugs or alcohol, such people were usually either turned over to the police or simply sent away, depending on their behavior. Before the blonde left, however, Bruce was able to overhear a few things about him simply by being within earshot as the man worked and interacted with the other homeless. Bruce learned that his name was Janick and that he held a regular job at a music store downtown but divided his evenings between working here at the shelter and volunteering at a drug intervention center across town. Unlike most of the people Bruce had picked on before, Janick didn’t exhibit a pious, self-righteous attitude but in his quiet way he showed unfailing kindness to the indigents, even those who were difficult to deal with, replying to their incoherent or belligerent remarks with a patience Bruce felt had to be false. It was impossible for him to believe anyone could actually be as easy-going as Janick seemed to be. He had to have a flaw, and Bruce decided to make it his mission to find out what it was. He had nothing better to do.

The following day was slightly warmer than it had been recently, and Bruce left the shelter early after gobbling down several of the donuts provided for the charity by local businesses. Picking pockets was a risky business and Bruce only resorted to it when he felt he had no choice, but now that the sun was out and the snow cover was melting somewhat he went back to his preferred way of earning a few quid, singing. He had only a tambourine to accompany himself, anything else would be too bulky to carry in his backpack, but the streets were busy because of the upcoming Christmas holiday and once he found a suitable street corner he’d collected enough within a few hours to treat himself to a fast-food lunch.   
Knowing it was unwise to stay in the same location for long unless he had a busking license, Bruce found another street closer to city center for the afternoon, hoping to earn enough for a few beers. Though he refused to sing Christmas music he knew to choose light, well known songs and to use his ready smile and playful banter, having learned years ago what brought in the most tips. He wasn’t doing as well in this new location and thick gray clouds now obscured the sun, bringing with it a brisk wind. He barely had to think any more about what songs to sing or how to encourage interaction with the passersby. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the people other than to thank those who threw a few coins in the small box he’d placed on the sidewalk in front of him. Gradually he noticed with a corner of his mind that he was being watched from across the narrow street so after fulfilling a request from a mother for popular song for her two children, he took a closer look. 

It took Bruce a moment to recognize the slim man watching him from the bus stop across the street, he was wearing a knit beanie which hid his blonde hair and had a thick scarf wrapped close around his lower face, but then he saw that it was Janick. He felt a brief satisfaction. If this guy was as charitable as he made himself out to be he would have crossed and thrown some coins in Bruce’s box. It seemed he had already found evidence that Janick wasn’t the humanitarian one would initially have thought.

Janick apparently noticed Bruce looking his way, however, and he left the bus stop, crossing to Bruce’s side of the street. ‘Shit!’ Bruce thought. He preferred to remain as unobtrusive as possible, blending in with the other homeless, but evidently Janick had recognized him. He went to gather up his tip box and make a hasty retreat.

It was too late, however. Janick approached just as an older couple requested Bruce sing the Beatles song Yesterday. The couple looked affluent so hoping for a generous gratuity, Bruce launched into the song, tapping the tambourine gently to keep the beat. Janick stood back behind the couple, watching with what seemed to Bruce to be unusual intensity as Bruce sang. Though ordinarily he wasn’t bothered by being watched, Janick’s scrutiny made him self conscious, something he hadn’t felt since his first weeks of busking in London. When the song was finished and the couple dropped several coins in the box, Bruce turned only to find Janick had gone. He saw him walking away down the block, long blonde ponytail escaping from beneath his hat, and he watched until the figure was lost in the crowded sidewalks. 

“Young man!”

Bruce started. An older man was standing in front of him and had apparently been trying to get his attention while he was focused on watching Janick walk away.

“You need to move away from my storefront. My manager says you’ve been here all afternoon.”

This happened to Bruce regularly, he knew there was no use arguing and he damned sure wasn’t going to plead with the man to let him stay. He wordlessly swept up his tip box and walked away. He had enough money for a decent dinner and a few pints already anyway.

 

Chapter Two

 

A couple of days later it was Janick’s night to work at the shelter again. He was setting up the cots in the back room and laying out the clean linen for them when Rachel, the shelter manager, called to him from the doorway.

“Jan, Don just called, he can’t come in tonight and I can’t get ahold of Jeremy. I hate to ask, but is there any way you can stay until morning?”

Jan straightened, thinking. Tomorrow was Saturday and he didn’t work Saturdays. He had told his mother he might stop by to help her move the furniture so she could shampoo the rug, but she would understand, Rachel was an old friend of hers. “Sure, I’ll stay, no problem.”

The older woman let out a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Jan. If there was no one here to watch the place we would have to close the doors and there are already twelve people here.”

“I don’t mind staying. Umm, I came here straight from work so I have my guitar with me, would it be all right if I practice a bit after things slow down and everyone is settled in?”

“Of course! The guests would probably enjoy it, as long as it isn’t too loud.” Rachel always referred to the homeless who sought shelter there as ‘guests’ and she insisted all the volunteers do so as well.

“I’ve got my acoustic today, I won’t be loud.” 

Rachel patted Jan’s arm and thanked him again then had to leave to finish up paperwork at the charity’s main office across town. Janick finished making the cots then went back into the main room. There had only been five or six people there when he arrived but he saw that Rachel was right, there were at least a dozen people present now, most were sitting and chatting over a hot drink at the tables and some were rummaging through the stacks of outdated magazines in the sitting area in one corner of the room. As Jan came out into the main area the outer door, which opened directly to the pavement outside, opened and another man came in. Jan glanced over as a gust of wind rattled the posters on the wall, then gave a second look. It was the young man with the long brown hair he’d seen singing while on the way home from work the other day. 

Though Jan had seen countless people pass through during the three years he had been volunteering here, there was something about this man that stood out in his mind. He wasn’t a local, Jan had never seen him until a few nights ago, and his accent marked him as being from further south. But it wasn’t his accent that attracted Jan’s attention. There was something in the way he carried himself with a sort of tense energy. He seemed sullen and Jan hadn’t seen him communicate with the other guests, but his eyes were bright and restless and didn’t seem to miss a thing. And then there was that voice! Not only did Jan work in a music store and give guitar lessons in the back of the store, he had been in a moderately successful band and he knew a good voice when he heard one. This homeless busker with the long chestnut hair had one of the best singing voices Jan had ever heard. Though he had the same world-weary air about him as many long-term drifters who had passed through the shelter, in most other ways he was unlike them. He wasn’t freshly shaved but his long hair was clean and well-kept and the first night he’d stayed there Jan had seen him disappear into the shower room. Even his clothes were reasonably clean, though well-worn. He wasn’t a tall man but well-built and muscular and Jan had no doubt he could handle himself on the streets. As he refilled the soup kettle and made sure the urns were filled with fresh coffee, Jan found himself glancing at the singer who’d helped himself to a cup of cocoa and found a seat in a corner of the reading area.

Bruce deliberately sat facing the windows though it was dark by now and with the bright fluorescent lighting inside he couldn’t see out. He was watching Janick in the reflection just to ease his boredom, looking for some indication that the blonde was bored, disdainful of the guests, snappish or condescending toward them…anything to indicate that his true nature was something other than the gentle, soft spoken philanthropic man he seemed to be. He sat watching until his cup of cocoa had long grown cold and saw Janick tirelessly greet newcomers, outlining the services the shelter offered and going over the rules, showing them to the bunk they would occupy for the night and even watching some of the small children who were inevitably present at these shelters. There was a small play area set aside for children in a back corner with donated cast-off toys scattered about. Bruce watched as Jan sat on the floor there with the few kids who were present, entertaining them with an acoustic guitar as the kid’s parents made use of the showers. 

The guitar piqued Bruce’s interest, it looked natural in Janick’s hands and though it was too noisy in the room and he was too far away to hear it, the effortless way the man’s hands flowed across the strings made it obvious that he played often. There were only three children present this evening, all appearing to be five or six years old, and Janick talked with them and played for them until they visibly relaxed and came out of the protective shell that underprivileged kids often seemed to withdraw into. 

Bruce eventually got up and got a bowl of stew before the food was put away as it was every evening at ten, and as he was at the table the door crashed open and an obviously intoxicated man of about fifty stumbled in. It was strictly against the rules to be under the influence while at the shelter and Bruce wondered how Janick was going to deal with this. This could be fun.

 

By the time Janick noticed the drunk and came over, the man was trying to talk to one of the women, a downtrodden-looking girl in her twenties who was apparently a regular, she had also been there the first time Bruce stayed. The woman ignored him and just as Jan approached the drunk roughly grabbed the girl’s arm.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave.” Jan said without preamble, standing before the man with his arms folded. 

“I’m not going anywhere!” the man turned a bit unsteadily, facing the blonde. “This is a shelter and I need a place to sleep!”

“If you could afford to get drunk you could have gotten a bed at the hostel.” Jan’s voice was still quiet, but firm. “Drunks aren’t welcome here and you’re harassing Mary. Leave. Now!”

The man gave a drunken laugh, wiping his filthy sleeve over his mouth. “You think a skinny little faggot like you can make me do anything?! I’d like to see you try!”

Bruce half expected Janick to back off but to his surprise Janick stepped forward until he was only a foot away from the troublemaker. “I don’t want to have to call the police. Go sober up and you’re more than welcome to a bed here.” He kept his tone low and even but there was a different note to his voice now. It was obvious he wasn’t going to put up with any more nonsense. 

The drunk took a step forward but Janick moved so fast Bruce couldn’t really follow it, he was suddenly behind the man twisting his arm up between his shoulder blades and hustling him toward the door. Even so, he was still speaking calmly. “Go on now, walk around a bit and sober up. Then come back and I’ll see that you get a meal and a bed. Now, go!”  At the door he gave the man a light shove that sent him stumbling out and he stood there, hands on his hips, making sure the man didn’t try to force his way back in. Bruce could barely make out the outline of the drunk through the window, he staggered over to a lamppost, glared back at Jan, then suddenly bent and was sick in the gutter. 

Jan stood watching until the man straightened and stumbled off along the sidewalk, then came back, shaking his head. His eyes met Bruce’s for a moment and Bruce became aware that, in spite of his intent to remain unobtrusive and observe Janick for a while, he’d been caught staring.

“Sorry about that.” Janick said in an aside as he passed Bruce, then he sat next to the young woman called Mary, who seemed unusually shaken by her encounter with the drunk. Janick spent several minutes speaking quietly with her, obviously trying to calm her. Eventually she seemed to regain her composure somewhat and Janick stood, patted her shoulder reassuringly, and started walking past Bruce.

“What’s her problem?” Bruce had to ask, his natural curiosity surfacing though he hadn’t intended to speak. The drunk hadn’t harmed her, he didn’t even say anything threatening to her. Janick immediately stopped walking, sinking to the chair next to Bruce to reply in a low voice.

“She’s just nervous because of her past. She ran away from an abusive husband.”

“Do you get much trouble from drunks like that?” Bruce knew that shelters like this all operated under different rules and fending off drunks and addicts was common in the larger cities but he was somewhat surprised to see it in this town. 

“At times. Drunks, or worse. We’ve had a couple of people try to sell drugs in here and one bloke almost overdosed in the bathroom last year.”

“Yet you’re the only one here to keep order? Doesn’t that make you nervous?” Janick’s composure while dealing with the drunk had belied his appearance; he looked to be the type to shy away from trouble.

Jan just made a vague gesture, the steady expression in his gray-blue eyes never wavering. “They usually have someone older and a little more intimidating working overnight” Jan laughed deprecatingly, then he suddenly changed the subject. “I saw you singing in Beaker Square the other day. You have a good voice. With a little training and discipline you could be a great singer.”

Bruce felt a sudden spark of annoyance. “Oh, is that so? I’m good enough now to get by. What do you know about it, anyway?!”

Janick showed no reaction to Bruce’s irascibility, accustomed to mood swings among the people the shelter served. “I work in a music store, we have vocal coaches there and I listen in to the lessons sometimes. And I’ve been around a number of bands over the years, I can recognize a good voice when I hear one.”

Bruce felt flattered in spite of himself, which made him even more irritated with Janick. He wanted to rudely turn away but something about Janick interested him. Turning on the charm that had gained him good tips at busking or begging, Bruce smiled at Janick. 

“Well you’re right about one thing, I haven’t had any training as a singer. It’s just something I started doing one night when I was drunk and I found out that people would buy me more drinks if I sang what they wanted to hear.”

“Where are you from?” Janick asked.

Bruce was asked this every time he moved on to a new area and he usually gave vague answers if he answered at all, knowing the question was just perfunctory, that the asker didn’t really give a shit what the answer might be. But when Bruce looked up from his stew and met Janick’s clear gray eyes, he saw interest there. Genuine interest. He answered without a second thought.   
“I was born near Sheffield but we moved to London when my father left.”

“What brings you up here?” The question was quiet and conversational, not prying or confrontational. Usually when someone asked why he was in the area it was because they wanted him to leave the area in question and go back where he came from.

Bruce gave a half shrug. “Just drifting around. Thought I might make my way to Newcastle.”

“There isn’t much work there this time of year.” Janick pointed out.

Again Bruce shrugged. With his lack of education and experience, jobs were hard to find anywhere. “Then I’ll look elsewhere.”

Janick looked at him without responding for a long moment and Bruce looked back down at his nearly empty bowl, disconcerted. He wasn’t used to being looked at as though what he said actually mattered.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’re in the area, we don’t have any restrictions on how many consecutive nights you can stay like some shelters do. A lot of our guests are locals and sleep here several times a week.” Janick stood then, an older man across the room was beckoning to him. Before leaving, though, he asked Bruce’s name.

“Bruce.” Bruce answered automatically. “Bruce Dickinson.”

 

Chapter Three

 

Bruce spent the next few days as he’d spent his days for many years now – trying to make a few pounds or, failing that, trying to steal them. He noticed that the police in this town were particularly vigilant, however, so he limited the shoplifting and picking pockets to a minimum, preferring to sing, either on the streets or in the pubs, for drinks and meal. His success was hit-and-miss. One night a girl he’d been chatting with at a pub told him he was welcome to stay the night at her flat. It was a rare opportunity for a tumble and Bruce took full advantage of it but the next morning the girl became clingy and he didn’t want any emotional entanglements. Every emotional attachment Bruce had ever had in his life had left him broken and empty. He was forced to be rude to the girl, telling her in no uncertain terms he had only been interested in a one-night stand, and she ordered him to leave immediately. He left with a sense of relief.

That day the weather was a mix of sleet and rain, making it impossible for him to busk, and after scoping out the shopping mall and finding that it unfortunately had a security guard to keep out his sort of riff-raff, he found himself at the homeless shelter just as dusk fell. He helped himself to soup and a cold sandwich that a matronly lady was just setting out and sat at one of the long tables facing the window. Several minutes later he saw a bus pull up at a stop across the street and Janick got off, a backpack and a gig bag slung across his shoulder. The unbidden thought came to his mind that Janick was a very attractive man. Lean and long-legged with wavy honey colored hair falling past his shoulders, a strong jaw, and regular features; he was the most attractive man Bruce had seen in a long time. He reined in his thoughts and mentally cursed himself for becoming distracted. It didn’t matter what Janick looked like, he reminded himself. He intended to be moving on soon.

Bruce lingered near to where Janick was working while trying not to draw undue attention to himself. The blond was an interesting diversion and Bruce still believed that the man couldn’t possibly be as charitable as he appeared. He soon realized that remaining unobserved in the background wasn’t an option, however. Janick obviously remembered their short conversation of a few nights earlier and greeted him by name as soon as he entered the shelter.

“Hello Bruce, it’s good to see you back here.” His smile seemed sincere and his gray eyes were warm. 

Bruce couldn’t explain it but he'd found himself looking forward to spending the night at the shelter and admitted to himself that he found Janick to be very attractive. He’d had encounters with both men and women in his time and didn’t see how it made any difference as long as both parties were willing. In his early days on his own he’d had a few occasions when he hadn’t been especially willing but in the end he discovered he enjoyed it. He’d never had to resort to prostituting himself, though. Somehow that felt sordid, turning a pleasurable act into a business transaction. He wasn’t so foolish to believe Janick had any interest in him aside from being charitable but the winter days were dull and this town offered few real amusements so watching the blonde go about his business was as good a pastime as any. 

 

Bruce finished his sandwich then got himself a cup of hot cocoa as Janick went through what was obviously his usual routine for his shift. He stowed his gear in a locker and set to work putting together the little plastic bags of sample-sized toiletries that were given to the guests. The older lady who had been on duty when Bruce arrived stayed and chatted with Janick for a while and because there were few people in the room it was quiet enough for Bruce to eavesdrop. Most of the conversation wasn’t particularly interesting, revolving around the work at the shelter itself, what had already been done that day and what Jan needed to do while he was there, but Bruce did overhear Janick mention his mother a couple times. From what he was able to gather, Jan spent every evening of the week dividing his time volunteering either there or at the drug intervention center across town and he spent weekends visiting with his mother and doing work around her house. It sounded like a remarkably boring life to Bruce and he couldn’t help but wonder why a young, attractive man like Janick would lead such a sedate life. He’d mentioned to Bruce that he’d been in bands but for some reason he seemed to have given all that up to live the quiet life he lived now. 

It was a quiet night with only four or five people turning up for a hot meal and a warm place to sleep, making it easier for Bruce to watch Janick. His movements were graceful and fluid as his long legs carried him about and he talked easily with the guests, chatting frequently with one in particular who seemed to be around his own age. Jan sat at the folding table that served as the desk where the paperwork was done keeping track of the number of guests, their particulars, and their names when the other young man came over, sitting on a folding chair to talk with him. Curious, Bruce moved closer, going to the coffee urn near them to listen as he lingered over getting a cup of coffee.

“Y’know, Cullen, I’ve told you before that if you get off that shit I can help you find a job.” Jan sounded disappointed.

“Yeah, yeah,” the other man said. He was heavier than Janick with unkempt brown hair and his clothes were none too clean. “Don’t preach to me Jan, you don’t know how it is, it’s not as easy as you think.”

“I never said it was easy but it can be done. People kick drugs all the time.” From the tone of Jan’s voice Bruce got the feeling that the two of them had this conversation many times before.

“I didn’t come over here to talk about that.” The man called Cullen was quick to change the subject, “I was wondering if you’re going into Middlesbrough on Saturday. They’re having a battle of the bands at the town hall. I want to go but I don’t have a ride.”

 

“I promised Mum I’d take her Christmas shopping Saturday.” Jan shook his head.

“C’mon, mate, you can do that another time!” Cullen’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “You know you want to go, you used to go to that kind of thing all the time, all the concerts and shows! Remember when all of us hitchhiked all the way up to Edinburgh for the fringe festival? And the time we tried to go to the Download but the car broke down?”

“I remember all of that, it wasn’t that long ago. I just can’t get away Saturday, that’s all.”

“You know what I think, Jan?” Cullen took on a slightly more bellicose tone. “I think you just don’t want to go! You don’t want to do anything that might remind you of Gerard!”

Bruce was watching from the corner of his eye as he continued to stir sugar in his coffee and he saw how Jan’s face closed up. “Bollocks! It’s got nothing to do with him.”

Even Bruce could hear how that statement rang hollow. Well, he thought, at least Janick lies. This was the first hint of any kind of vice he’d shown yet, as minor as it was. Cullen the addict seemed to be an old friend of Janick’s and Bruce’s lively curiosity was piqued. Up until now he hadn’t spoken to the other guests at the shelter any more than was absolutely necessary. But Janick’s reaction to the mere mention of someone called Gerard intrigued him. Up until that point he’d been upbeat, going about with a spring in his step and cheerfully chatting with anyone who spoke to him. After Cullen sulked off pouting, however, Janick’s shoulders slumped and he remained at the desk, not even looking up unless someone came over to him with a question or a concern of some kind. 

Bruce found a seat near the television and glanced over from time to time. Janick was no longer even pretending to do paperwork, he was simply sitting there staring into space, his expression unreadable. Bruce felt an unexpected urge to go over and ask if he was all right but he fought it down, albeit with some difficulty. Janick’s personal issues were no business of his, he reminded himself. He was just another charity worker after all, albeit an attractive one. Why, he didn’t know, but Bruce was increasingly curious about the long-legged blonde

The shelter took no more people in after ten o’clock every evening but at just a few minutes to ten a couple with three young children arrived, looking cold and lost. Janick roused himself then and went over to welcome then so while he was distracted Bruce sought out Cullen. He found him sitting in the TV area with two others but the other two were dozing. Bruce sat next to Cullen on the cracked vinyl sofa, wrinkling his nose a bit at the unwashed smell of the man.

“Hello, mate. Anything interesting on the telly?”

Cullen started a bit, evidently unused to having strangers speak to him. “No, not really. Been watching Coronation Street reruns.”

“Ugh!” Bruce grinned, automatically turning on the charm that had enabled him to survive for the past twelve years. “Fancy a game of Rummy?”

 

Chapter Four

 

At midnight the shelter dimmed all the lights and most guests drifted off to their assigned cots in the back rooms. Bruce lay in his cot listening to the chatter of the kids in the family room on the other side of the thin partition thinking over what he had learned from Cullen. The two had played several hands of cards and Bruce let the other man win most of them until Cullen loosened up and became more talkative. On the surface Cullen looked like any other nondescript derelict; unshaven and unwashed with shabby clothes and the parched lips of a heavy crack smoker, but gradually Bruce began to piece together his story and learn how it intertwined with Janick’s. He and Janick had gone to school together and hung around with the same group of friends, he told Bruce. There were five or six of them all united by a love of heavy rock music and they had started gathering together at one another’s homes from the time they were thirteen or fourteen. Like most people, Cullen tried to talk most about himself but Bruce managed to turn the conversation back to Janick without being obvious about it.

“Yeah, “he told Cullen, “I heard Janick say something the other day about working in a music store.”

Cullen nodded and laid down a sequence of cards. Bruce had better cards in his hand but he didn’t play them. “Jan works at McMillan Guitar Shop. They’re called a guitar shop but they handle all sorts of instruments and equipment there and give lessons too. Janick was able to get the job easily after the band broke up.”

Bruce’s interest was piqued but he hid it by rearranging the cards in his hand. “Band?” he asked casually.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re not from around here. Jan and his …. his mate Gerard started a band while they were still in school. Hard rock and metal, all original stuff too. I used to tag along with them sometimes to help set up the equipment. They got pretty well known around here, they even got some gigs in London. There was a rumor there was a record company interested in signing them on.”

“Really? But they broke up, huh? How come?” 

Cullen grew evasive then and Bruce cursed himself for appearing too nosy. “Well, Gerard…..died.”

“He died!?” Bruce wasn’t expecting that. “How did he die, he must have been quite young?”

Cullen’s eyes shifted and he fidgeted a little. “I…I’m not sure. I was living in Manchester then and Gerard died in London so I don’t know too much about it.”

Bruce could tell Cullen knew more than he was saying but he also knew he’d better not pressure him for any more information. It seemed that Janick had once been more than the philanthropic homebody he seemed to be now. The change seemed to be somehow connected to this mysterious Gerard person and Bruce sensed something there, it smelled of a secret of some kind. Bruce found he wanted to find some flaw in this golden haired man. No one could be as kind and beneficent as Jan appeared to be; no one had a right to be! Hardship and pain were life, or at least the only life Bruce was familiar with, and for someone to be as easygoing as Jan appeared to be had to have had a warm and nurturing background, the kind of background that made Bruce feel bitter and resentful.

He knew by now that Janick only volunteered at the shelter Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays so he tried to find other places to sleep on the other nights, not wanting to make himself too conspicuous at the shelter. Being low-key and remaining in the background was second nature to someone skirting around the edge of the law as he often did. One night he fell in with a group of university students who let him sleep on their sofa and another night he found a window that had accidentally been left unlocked in a storage building near the edge of the city. It wasn’t heated but Bruce was used to sleeping in the cold. 

He showed up at the shelter on Wednesday expecting Janick to be there but he wasn’t. He overheard two of the other volunteers mention that he had switched nights in order to go with his mother to visit relatives in York that evening. Bruce was surprised at how disappointed he felt. He considered going back out into the night but it was starting to snow and when he checked earlier he found that the previously unlocked window had been discovered and locked by someone. He had no interest in staying with the college kids again, they had been loud and obnoxious and he’d spent the whole time thinking how naïve they were compared to himself. A few minutes later his mind was made up for him when he saw Cullen enter. Bruce had known a dozen blokes just like Cullen; vagrants, addicts, petty thieves, none of them too bright but relatively harmless. He strolled over as Cullen was pouring cocoa powder in a cup of hot water.

“Evening, mate.”

Cullen turned jerkily. He was high, Bruce could tell, but apparently it wasn’t as obvious to the middle-aged man tending the shelter as it was to him.

“Oh, ‘ello. Bruce, right?”

“Right! Cold one out tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cullen’s hand shook slightly as he carried his cocoa to a table and sat down, Bruce followed him and sat next to him making the small talk that came second nature to him when he was conning someone out of a meal. Within half an hour the two of them were ensconced in front of the television watching highlights of an earlier football match. Bruce wasn’t particularly interested in football, he never had time for it, but he pretended to be as a way to encourage Cullen to loosen up. 

It worked. When the sports program was over Cullen suggested they play cards again and he was more talkative this time. Bruce was sure this was partially due to the drugs he had indulged in earlier but nevertheless he was subtle about steering the conversation around to Janick.

“I thought your mate Janick worked Wednesdays.” he mentioned after they had played a few minutes.

“I think he usually does. He must have had something to take care of tonight. Probably something with his Mum, that seems to be his only social life anymore.”

“A homebody, is he? He does seem like the quiet type.”

Cullen let out a snort. “He wasn’t always, I can tell you that. He was always up for a beer when we would party together.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Bruce feigned indifference, “you said he used to be in a band or something, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, White Spirit. If you were from around here you would probably recognize the name. He was a hell of a guitarist, too. You should have seen him on stage dancing and whirling around like a madman!” Cullen shook his head. “Damned shame, what happened.”

“Oh?” Bruce drew a card and played a sequence of spades, his tone only idly curious.

“Yeah. Of course I didn’t hear about it until I got back to town,”   
Bruce had to listen then to a long and rather disjointed account of how Cullen had gone to Birmingham on a construction job and was fired when he was caught smoking weed on his lunch break, but he listened and made the appropriate comments at Cullen’s whining indignation until the conversation came back in a roundabout way to Janick.

“…so I didn’t live here for almost two years and didn’t really talk to any of my old mates so I didn’t hear anything about it until I got back to town.”

“About what?” Bruce was getting a little impatient with the other man’s rambling.

“About White Spirit breaking up. From what I heard they had been getting more and more gigs down south and a London record company was scouting them out so they were all ready to move down there. Only Janick was taking some classes at University and couldn’t move down there right away. The others went on ahead and he was going to join them when term ended. I guess it was only two or three months but it was long enough.”

“Long enough?” Bruce was practically gritting his teeth now, Cullen was taking forever to get to the point of his story.

“Long enough for Gerard to get hooked on heroin.”

“Oh, I see.” Bruce had seen the same thing happen time and time again. Bright-eyed hopefuls coming into the city full of dreams and ambition only to have London chew them up and spit them out. Sometimes it took months, sometimes only a few weeks. 

Cullen shook his head sadly and discarded a six of hearts. “Jan must have been devastated. He and Gerard were…..close. Very close, if you know what I mean.”

Bruce looked up sharply. What was Cullen saying?

Cullen seemed to realize that he shouldn’t say any more about that, though, and went on with his narrative. “This all happened before I got back to town, mind you, but my mates told me about it as soon as I moved back. They said Jan was going to rush down to London as soon as he found out Gerard became a junkie but before he could he heard that Gerard was dead.” 

Bruce remembered Cullen saying something before about Gerard being dead. “Did he overdose?”

“No, he was killed. He passed out on the street one night and they found him there dead in the morning, he’d been stabbed. Somebody probably tried to rob him and when he didn’t have any money they just stabbed him. It could happen to any of us, even here. That’s why I sleep at the shelter so often, even in warmer weather I don’t like sleeping in the open.”

Cullen went on talking about his own experiences with being homeless but Bruce wasn’t listening. He knew more about that particular subject than Cullen could ever imagine and his mind was full of what he’d just learned. It occurred to him that maybe Janick was genuine after all. 

Laying in his cot later listening to the snores of Cullen and the other two men from the other beds, Bruce couldn’t sleep. His mind kept going back to Janick and how he had lost his friend. Or had Cullen been hinting that they had been more than friends? It certainly sounded that way, and if so then it would have been even worse for the blonde. It would explain why he seemed to have no social life and spent all his free time volunteering at a homeless shelter and a drug intervention center.

 

Chapter five

 

Janick shifted the toddler he was holding on his hip to a more comfortable position and smiled as the little boy toyed with the ends of his long hair. The child’s mother was sorting through the boxes of donated clothing for something warmer for the tyke and Janick offered to hold the little guy to keep him from getting into mischief. He looked at the girl, an unwed mother still in her teens who had been kicked out by her boyfriend, and inwardly sighed. Sometimes it felt as though everything he did here made no lasting difference at all.

There were in a large storage room off the main area and Janick could see through the open doorway that it was going to be a busy night. There were eight or ten people present already milling around talking in groups or sitting at the tables with the meatloaf and instant mashed potatoes that was that evenings donated dinner. The homeless shelter was funded by a group of the town’s businesses and the meals were contributed by various restaurants but the food was usually basic, adequate to ease hunger but not necessarily delicious.

Even as Janick looked another person came through the door. He took a second look. It was that man Bruce who had been showing up a lot recently, the man with the incredible singing voice that Janick had only heard on the one occasion but hadn’t forgotten. Janick found himself wondering about the other man. He’d said he was from London but Janick knew nothing else about him and though he’d seen Bruce playing cards with Cullen once he didn’t associate with the other guests. He’d obviously been living rough for quite some time, there was an air about him that Janick recognized, a kind of jaded resignation that long-time drifters had, but the one time they’d spoken Janick could tell immediately that Bruce wasn’t a drunk or an addict and in fact he seemed to be quite intelligent.

A sharp tug on his hair drew Janick out of his reverie and he smiled at the little round-faced boy, bouncing him a little on his hip. The child’s mother had found a few things by now and took him back, taking him into the family sleeping room to see if they would fit him. Janick busied himself re-organizing the clothes into tubs designated by size and season and was surprised a few minutes later by a voice behind him.

“Are there any tee shirts in any of those boxes?”

Jan stood and turned in one fluid movement, knowing before he looked that it was Bruce speaking from the doorway. “I think so, in this one.” He indicated a bin on the second shelf and took it down, laying it on the floor for Bruce to go through. It was easy to see why Bruce was asking; he’d taken off his jacket and the flannel shirt he wore beneath it and was wearing only a threadbare Led Zeppelin tee shirt beneath. “That looks like a vintage tee you’re wearing, those are hard to find.”

Bruce had knelt and was sorting through the clothes but he looked up. “It is, I nicked it from a clothing shop in Shoreditch but it doesn’t keep me very warm, I’m afraid.”

“You should be able to find something warmer here, then.” Jan sat easily on the floor next to Bruce, his long legs crossing Indian-style. “They won’t be rock band shirts but they’ll keep you warm.” He sat for a minute watching Bruce as the other man rummaged through the clothing, noticing that his jeans were thin and worn as well, clinging tightly to his muscular legs. His eyes lingered for a moment longer than they should have before he tore them away. “We may have some pants that will fit too, though we don’t get many donations of jeans.” 

“I only need a shirt right now, thanks.” Bruce answered, not glancing up. 

Jan sat for a minute longer, not speaking, then unfolded his legs and stood. “Right, then. Let me know if I can help you with anything else.”

Bruce merely nodded and Janick left the room, wishing Bruce was a bit more communicative.

 

Bruce felt himself relax once Janick left. Why did the man have to be so fucking nice?! It confused him in a way he wasn’t used to and he didn’t know how to handle it. The thought of amusing himself by revealing Janick’s weaknesses was quickly losing its appeal. Granted, Cullen had hinted that he might be gay but in this day and age that was hardly a weakness. He knew he should be thinking of moving on to another town with better prospects and less vigilant police. He looked up to see Janick crossing the room on his long legs, skinny jeans hugging his perfectly rounded arse. Maybe he’d stay a little longer, after all.

 

Bruce eventually found a heavy plain gray tee shirt that would fit and rather than call Janick over to put the boxes away he did it himself, feeling a reluctance to be near the blonde and once again feel that odd shaky feeling in the pit of his stomach. Without giving it conscious thought he made certain to keep the clothes organized as they had been, not mixing them up between the containers, then sniffed the shirt he’d found. It smelled clean but he knew he didn’t, it had been several days since he had availed himself of the shelter’s showers. No time like the present, he thought. He still had half a bottle of trial-sized shampoo left and there was a small tub of hotel soaps in the shower room so he headed back there and was soon reveling in the sensation of the hot water cascading over him. 

There was no one using the other two showers stalls at the moment so Bruce took his time, closing his eyes and leaning his head back to rinse his long hair. The water was lulling him into a semi - dreamlike state and as he rinsed the lather from his body he accidentally brushed his penis. He felt an instant flicker of desire. Sexual interludes were few and far between for someone in his circumstances and though he knew he could probably have a little fun with some of the sleazier girls he regularly ran into, he usually avoided encouraging them. All too often it turned out much as it had with the girl encountered shortly after arriving in town; they wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He allowed himself to grow close to a few girls when he was still in his teens and it always ended the same; they became demanding, trying to change him into their vision of the ideal boyfriend, or they continued to sleep around, allowing other guys to climb into their beds as readily as they had let him.

Bruce idly let his hand trail down his stomach again and across his groin, now showing signs of arousal. Almost without thinking he grasped himself lightly, taking a deep breath at the pleasurable sensation, and began to move his hand. He was fully hard in less than a minute and began to stroke himself in earnest when suddenly there was the sound of someone entering the room. Shit! He could have sworn he locked the door! The room was divided into three shower stalls much like a school gym shower room with thin plastic curtains but since he was the only one in there he hadn’t bothered to pull the curtain. He thought he’d locked the door and anyway he’d counted on hearing anyone coming in long before they could see him but he had gotten too caught up in pleasuring himself. He reached up now to quickly pull it closed but it was too late, he looked out straight into the eyes of Janick who had entered with a laundry bag of clean towels to stack on the shelves. 

Both men froze, and Bruce saw the surprise in Janick’s expression shift into something else as his eyes quickly flickered down before he quickly turned away.

“Sorry,” the blonde said in a strained voice, and before Bruce could say a word Janick left hurriedly, the bag of towels lying on the floor where he’d dropped it.

Bruce stared at the closed door for a full minute after the other man left, his heart- hammering in his chest. He wasn’t a modest man but this encounter startled him and his reaction was unexpected. He should feel embarrassed, he knew, even though it had been another man who had walked in on him, but what he felt was something different from ordinary embarrassment. His hand slid back down across his belly again as though of its own violation and back to his hardness, which hadn’t diminished at all. He heard himself moan softly and quickly gripped himself, resuming wanking off as though his life depended on it, bringing himself to a strong orgasm within minutes. All the time he was replaying the scene in his mind and seeing the expression in Janick’s eyes as he glanced down Bruce’s body before he practically ran out of the room. 

Before leaving the shower room Bruce picked up the laundry bag and put the towels away, more as a way to delay going out and possibly facing Janick than for any other reason. He couldn’t hide in there forever, though, and made his way out to the main room as inconspicuously as possible. Fortunately Janick was busy tidying up scattered toys in the play area with his back to Bruce and didn’t see him. Bruce briefly considered leaving even if it meant sleeping in the cold for the night, but then he decided to simply go to bed early and slipped into the sleeping area before Janick turned around. He was the first one in the sleeping area but he was still wide awake as other men trickled in and bedded down for the night. Even after snores filled the air from the other cots Bruce lay there, confused and unsettled. 

Bruce left the shelter long before most of the other guests were stirring. The man who had replaced Janick offered him some of the coffee he’d just brewed but Bruce merely waved him off, walking out into the cold winter dawn. For once the sun was shining, turning the dreary streets almost beautiful in its golden glow, sparkling on the fresh snow and the icy roof tiles, but Bruce was too preoccupied to enjoy the sight. He knew what he should do, he should take the few pounds he had left from the previous day and catch the next bus out of town. He didn’t even care if he went north or south, he just felt he needed to move on. 

He went to the bus station before he could change his mind. Everything he’d seen in the two weeks he’d been in town only reinforced the growing certainty that Bruce was wasting his time hanging around here when there were several other cities with more opportunities for a drifter like him.

“When is the next bus out of town?” Bruce asked the bored-looking woman at the ticket kiosk, not bothering with any polite pleasantries.

“Going where, sir?”

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t care.”

The woman clicked her computer mouse a few times, scrolling through different screens on the monitor. “I’m afraid everything is full up for the rest of the day. We do have seats open tomorrow afternoon on the Glasgow bus”

“There are no seats available at all today?” Bruce asked incredulously.

“Sir, tomorrow is Christmas Eve, our busiest time of the year. There are only two seats left on the Glasgow bus tomorrow, would you like a ticket?”

Bruce hesitated, thinking. If he bought a bus ticket it would take every last bit of his money and he couldn’t count on being able to get ahold of anymore. As the Christmas holiday got nearer the crowds had been growing more hurried and less willing to stop to throw a few quid to a busker, and there had been a noticeable increase in police as well due to the crowds. So shoplifting and picking pockets was too risky. Bruce sighed.

“No, never mind,” he told the woman, walking off with his hands deep in his pockets. He could try to hitchhike, he knew, but with his luck he would be stranded on some desolate stretch of motorway at nightfall and have to sleep in a sheep barn. His best choice was to stay and spend yet another night at the homeless shelter. At least it was Saturday and Janick didn’t volunteer on weekends. 

 

Chapter Six

 

As soon as Bruce walked into the shelter that night he had an immediate urge to turn around and walk back out into the night even though it was close to zero outside. He had seen the notices on the door about a Christmas party for the guests and all others who needed a hot meal but hadn’t paid it any mind, such things as Christmas parties didn’t register in his consciousness. But the party was taking place, the room was filled with perhaps thirty people, and all eight volunteers were present, including Janick. Fuck! Enduring Christmas was bad enough, but pretending to celebrate it with a bunch of strangers was even worse. Bruce stood by the door listening to the strains of Christmas music on a radio and his eye was drawn to Janick like a magnet. The slender blonde was seated near the Christmas tree and surrounded by a half dozen children, they were laughing with him over something he’d just said and even from across the room Bruce could hear the children begging him to play them a song on his guitar.

“Please, Janick, pleeaase!” they begged, jumping up and down until he gave in, laughing as he grabbed the guitar from where it was leaning against the wall.

The room suddenly looked blurry to Bruce and it took him a moment to realize it was because his eyes had filled with tears. Damn Christmas, damn children, and damn Janick, Bruce thought, turning abruptly and leaving the room. He nearly collided with an older man and mumbled an apology but hurried off, the night air cold on his damp cheeks. He only had five pounds, not enough to go to a pub, so he headed straight to a nearby store selling liquor and spent the last of his money on cheap whiskey.

Thankfully it wasn’t raining or snowing that night, in fact the sky was clear with an almost-full moon, but it was bone-chillingly cold. There was a park only a few blocks away and Bruce sank down on a bench, feeling the cold bite his skin through his threadbare jeans. He didn’t care, he was on a mission to get drunk enough to forget it was Christmas and forget about the tall slender blonde man that had taken over his every waking thought.

Oblivion didn’t come as quickly as Bruce would have liked. He didn’t particularly care for the taste of whiskey and the cold was keeping his mind sharp even after he’s managed to consume a third of the bottle. ‘Maybe I’ll get lucky and freeze to death.’ he told himself, but he knew that it wasn’t cold enough for that, just cold enough to be damned uncomfortable. He looked up to the bright moon thinking back to the first six years of his life. He usually pushed those memories to the darkest depths of his mind, but he had never succeeded in forgetting them altogether. His father had been there then and his parents had seemed, at least to his child’s eyes, reasonably happy. They had a small flat and he remembered a Christmas tree and a few cheaply wrapped gifts beneath it. That was the one and only happy Christmas memory he had. One year later his dad had run off with a woman he worked with and his mother had taken him to London seeking work. Two years later his mother was sending him out in the evenings while she ‘entertained’ customers in their bedsit. Three years later his mother was dead. There were no happy Christmases since. Bruce took a gigantic swallow of liquor, wincing at the taste, and lowered his head, closing his eyes.

“Bruce?”

Bruce heard a voice but it didn’t rouse him enough to open his eyes. He wasn’t sure whether he’d passed out or simply fallen asleep but he felt stiff, so cold he couldn’t move.

“Bruce,” he felt a hand grasp his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He managed to open his eyes and to his befuddled mind he saw what looked to be a figure with a halo leaning over him.

“Christmas angel….,” he muttered thickly, and he heard a soft chuckle.

“No, no, it’s me, Janick. Remember, from the shelter?”

Bruce rubbed his hand over his face, blinking. Janick was kneeling in front of him peering at him with a worried expression, the moonlight making his hair seem to glow.

He cleared his throat, it felt raw. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Someone said you were at the shelter earlier, why didn’t you stay? You’ll freeze out here!”

Bruce went to raise the liquor bottle but noticed that it had fallen from his hand while he was unconscious and lay empty on the pavement. 

“Why aren’t you back there singing for them?” he asked, still a bit out of it.

“The party’s over, it’s after one in the morning. I was on my way home on the bus when I recognized you sitting here. I made them let me off between scheduled stops.” He laughed softly. “They weren’t very happy about it. You can’t stay out here all night, especially since you’ve been drinking. Alcohol impairs your body’s ability to regulate temperature.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve slept out on colder nights than this.” 

A shadow seemed to pass over Janick’s face. “I’m not leaving you here!” his voice was still soft, but firm, “you’re coming home with me.”

“Go on home, Janick,” it was the first time Bruce had called him by name and he liked the sound of it on his tongue. “I’ll just go to the shelter.”

“You can’t, mate, it’s already full beyond capacity. Some people are even sleeping on the floors. Come on,” he stood and held out a hand to Bruce, “it’s a fifteen-minute walk to my flat, it will give you a chance to sober up.”

Bruce looked up at him, then took his hand, getting to his feet. “I suppose you’ll stand there and bother me until I agree to go with you,” he grumbled

“Yup!” Janick said cheerily, waiting until Bruce slung his backpack across his shoulder stiffly, every muscle and bone protesting. Bruce followed the leggy blonde, keeping pace even though his limbs were numb with cold, and they walked in silence for several minutes. Janick seemed content to leave Bruce to his thoughts and as he walked and his head cleared he started to wonder why he’d acquiesced to Janick’s request so easily. A number of people had offered to let Bruce sleep at their place over the years but never in quite these circumstances, and never anyone like Janick. Usually the people who let him crash at their place did it because they didn’t care one way or another but Bruce sensed it was just the opposite with Janick. Janick was taking him home because he did care. That went along with everything else he’d observed about the blonde. He felt an odd sense of comfort from that thought.

"Here we are,” Janick announced, approaching a square tenement in the center of a residential block just off the downtown area. He led Bruce up a narrow stairwell and unlocked the door at the top, switching on a light.

"It's small, only two rooms so you'll have to kip on the couch if that all right." Janick laid down his guitar case and backpack and took off his khaki jacket, draping it over the back of a chair in what served as a kitchen area.

Bruce set his own backpack down. “Believe me, it’s better than a park bench!” He did appreciate the other man’s generosity; after all, he didn’t even know Bruce. Then with a rush Bruce remembered the encounter in the shower room the night before, something the alcohol and the cold had driven from his mind until now. Awkwardness flooded over him and he found it incredible that even after that, after catching him masturbating, Janick still offered him a place to sleep. 

He looked at everything in the room except Jan, unable to meet his eyes now that he remembered. They stood in a combination lounge/kitchen and through an open door ahead of him Bruce could see a bedroom. Another door apparently led to a bathroom. In addition to the acoustic guitar in the case that Janick had been carrying, two electric guitars stood on stands against a wall next to a few small amps, but otherwise the apartment was rather spartan. The walls held a few concert posters and the furniture consisted on a plain brown couch, one chair, and a small wooden kitchen table with two chairs. The window was covered with Venetian blinds.

Janick was busying himself at the kitchen counter. “Sit down, Bruce, take off your coat and warm up. I’ll fix some sandwiches.”

Bruce took off his jacket, folding it carefully and laying it across his backpack, and sat on the couch wondering why he felt nervous. He watched Janick put together two bologna sandwiches and he knew they were for him, there had been a variety of food at the Christmas party and he knew Janick must have eaten already. Janick returned with a paper plate of sandwiches and two beers, sitting next to Bruce on the couch and opening his beer as Bruce ate, trying not to appear as hungry as he actually was.

“Why didn’t you stay at the party?” Jan asked quietly after a few minutes.

Bruce’s spirits were raised now that his stomach was full and he took a sip of beer, answering honestly before his natural reserve took over. “I don’t know, it just felt a little overwhelming, you know?”

Janick nodded “I get that, I guess. It is a bit much, all the people and noise and everything.’

“I wish I had stayed to hear you play for those kids, though.” 

“It would have been even better if you sang along.” Jan said unexpectedly.

Bruce had to laugh, “You’ve only heard me sing one time!”

Jan merely shrugged, “I can’t sing, I usually let the kids sing the lyrics while I play. I think they would enjoy hearing you sing.”

Bruce was surprised that he actually considered it for a moment. He reminded himself that he intended to leave town as soon as he possibly could. “I don’t really know any kids’ songs.”

Jan was looking at him with a smile, “You could sing anything you put your mind to, with your voice. I wish we had a vocalist like you back when…..” he let the sentence trail off and looked away, changing the subject. "I'll just go and get you a blanket and pillow." He stood abruptly, disappearing into the bedroom. Bruce understood Janick’s discomfort, he had been thinking of his own former band and that naturally led to thinking of Gerard and whatever their relationship had been. Even if they had only been friends it would be a subject he would rather avoid but if they had been lovers, as Bruce suspected, it would have been even more discomfiting for Jan. Yet another reason, Bruce reflected, that he himself had avoided forming emotional attachments of any kind.

Janick returned to the room with a fleece blanket and a pillow, placing them on the couch. 

"I'll let you go to sleep now, Bruce. I'll see you in the morning. And Happy Christmas."

Bruce looked at the clock hanging over Janick's refrigerator. It was after 1:00 AM. It was officially Christmas.

"Happy Christmas, Janick." he replied, surprising himself. "And... thank you."

Jan looked back at him from the bedroom doorway and smiled, then went inside. Bruce looked at the closed door, still seeing that smile.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Janick awoke with the awareness that he wasn’t alone in his apartment, wondering whatever had possessed him to invite Bruce home. He had never taken any of the homeless wanderers he’d met home with him before, but ever since he met Bruce he sensed that he was different. It wasn’t simply because he obviously wasn’t a drunk or drug-user as so many of the people Janick encountered were or that he showed no signs of the mental deterioration that people often showed after years of hardship. There was something deeper that drew him to Bruce so that when he happened to glance out of the bus window on his way home last night and recognized the figure slumped on the park bench, he couldn’t let him stay out in the cold all night, especially on Christmas Eve.

Janick sat up in bed and stretched, listening for sounds from the other room. After a moment he was able to discern a light snoring and he smiled to himself. Good, Bruce was still asleep. He’d been a little afraid that the other man had awakened and slipped out of the house and for some reason Janick knew he didn’t want him to go. He felt some kind of bond with the shorter man that he didn’t quite understand but it had started even before he’d surprised Bruce in the shower room. Remembering that, Janick felt his stomach clench up and an embarrassing awareness of a morning erection. A vivid vision of a well-built muscular body covered with abundant straight dark hair appeared in his mind, then he remembered what Bruce had been doing. He’d had a full erection and Janick had clearly seen his hand guiltily jump away from his penis as soon as he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. The door hadn’t been locked but Janick knew that particular door had a tricky lock; undoubtedly Bruce had believed he’d locked it but it hadn’t latched properly.

Slipping on a pair of camouflage pants and a long-sleeve tee Janick quietly left the bedroom, visiting the bathroom to perform his morning ablutions then making his way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He looked over to the couch where Bruce lay on his side, long chestnut hair spilling over the edge of the blanket and one hand trailing off the couch to the floor. Even now, disheveled and in need of a shave, Janick couldn’t deny Bruce was a handsome man. Completely different physically from Gerard, who had been slightly built and so fair his hair was almost white, but every bit as attractive. Jan felt a twinge of guilt when he caught himself thinking like that, he felt as though it was disloyal to Gerard’s memory, and he determinedly turned his mind away, focusing on making some scrambled eggs and toast.

 

Bruce awoke gradually, aware of delicious smells around him. He was disoriented for a moment, remembering dozing off on a cold bench, then he became aware that he was lying on a soft surface in a warm room under a clean-scented blanket. He opened his eyes, peering blearily through his tangled hair at a straight, slim figure in camouflage pants working at a small, narrow stove. Oh yeah, he remembered now! He was in Janick’s flat. He lay for a minute or two watching as Janick moved about the kitchen with easy, graceful movements, his golden-brown hair freshly brushed and almost glowing in the morning sunlight entering the room’s one window. Watching Jan was a pure pleasure and Bruce lay back, enjoying the view with a sense of comfort and contentment he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember.

Janick must have felt Bruce’s eyes on him, he turned with a smile. “Good morning! Are you hungry?”

There was no point in denying it. Bruce thought that Jan could probably hear his stomach growling from across the room.

“Just give me a minute.” He grabbed his backpack and retreated to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair and do his morning business. Jan’s bathroom smelled of the fresh herbal shampoo Bruce had detected on Jan himself, it was a basic but scrupulously clean bathroom and Bruce was careful not to splash water on the vanity and to hang his towel up as he found it before exiting. Jan had two plates made up and was already starting on his own so Bruce sat opposite him and dug in. It was delicious, which didn’t surprise Bruce. Cleaning his plate, Bruce brought it to the tiny sink and washed it.

“I’ll be out of your way as soon as I get my stuff,” he said, wiping his wet hands on his jeans. Jan was still sitting at the table drinking coffee and he looked up in surprise.

“You’re leaving? I was hoping you’d come with me to my Mum’s for Christmas dinner this evening.”

Bruce had been returning his toiletries to his backpack but froze, looking at Jan. He’d assumed Janick would want him to move on as soon as possible. “To your Mum’s?” he repeated, thinking he’d surely misunderstood.

“Well, it is Christmas and Mum wouldn’t mind, it would be just me and her. But if you don’t want to…"

 

Bruce stood up straight, not sure what to say. The thought of being a third wheel at a family Christmas dinner was daunting and he couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. He shook his head. “No, no. I mean, I appreciate the offer but…” he was stammering and he knew it, it was completely out of character for him and he took a deep breath, steadying his voice. “It’s your Christmas with your Mum, you don’t want a total stranger there, and a bum at that!”

“You are not a bum!” Janick’s voice sounded almost angry and he sat up straight in his chair. “Don’t call yourself that! It’s no shame to be down on your luck!”

Bruce let a bitter laugh escape. “I’ve been down on my luck for ten years! I think that makes be a bum.”

“Bollocks! I’ve been watching you, Bruce. You’re an intelligent man, you live the way you do because it’s how you want to live, not because you’ve no other choice!”

Bruce had a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, he was ready to grab his backpack and storm out of there but something stopped him. He stared at Janick who returned the stare evenly, and it suddenly occurred to him that Janick was right. He had proven to himself he could get a job, he’d worked at dozens through the years only to leave them when he felt he was becoming too comfortable or when he felt he was forming friendships with his coworkers. He knew he had a sharp mind. It wasn’t vanity, he simply knew it by how quickly he picked up on things, even things were somewhat on the dark side of the law. The two men stared almost defiantly at one another for a minute, then Janick spoke again.

“Will you come to Mum’s with me later?”

It was a simple question but the answer was one of the most difficult Bruce had ever given. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come. Thanks for inviting me.” He added belatedly, sitting back down on the couch. One of the lessons his mother had drilled in him from the time he could talk long before things ever went bad was to be polite and treat everyone with respect. He got odd looks at times from people who didn’t expect a civil response from a street person but it was so ingrained in Bruce by now that it was part of who he was.

 

Janick tossed him a smile from the kitchen as he washed up his own breakfast dishes, then he joined Bruce on the couch.

"Good! No one should be alone on Christmas, Bruce! Mum will be glad to have another guest, she always makes too much food anyway. Sometimes my cousins come by but they're not expected to this year."

"You're the only child?" Bruce found he was curious in spite of himself. He wanted to know more about the long-legged blonde; in fact he wanted to know everything.

Janick nodded. "Yeah. Since Dad was killed in an auto accident when I was fifteen it's been just Mum and me. She won't have dinner ready until later, though, so I was wondering if you would do something for me?"

Bruce felt his heart jump and the thought flickered across his mind 'oh yes, I think I'd do anything for you!' He caught himself. What the fuck was wrong with him?! More and more he was finding unexpected and unprecedented thoughts like this entering his mind since meeting Jan. He must be losing his mind.

“What?” he heard the wariness in his own voice. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had shown him kindness only to expect something outrageous in return.

“Could you sing something for me?” Janick looked almost fearful that Bruce would refuse.

Bruce laughed in relief. “Are you serious? You want to hear me sing right now?”

“Only if you want to. I’ll accompany you on guitar if that will help.”

Bruce shook his head, grinning because Janick still looked like he expected Bruce to refuse. “Sure, okay. What do you want me to sing?”

Jan smiled, clearly pleased, and reached for his acoustic. “Whatever you want. Just sing something you like.”

Bruce thought for a moment, “Victim of Changes?”

Jan broke into a wide grin. “I knew we would like the same music!” and without hesitation he started playing the intro flawlessly, albeit on an acoustic. Bruce watched, his mouth almost falling open as Janick’s fingers flew over the frets, so mesmerized he almost missed his cue. Holy shit, this guy could play! He made it look as effortless as breathing!

Bruce launched into the vocals and within seconds was totally immersed in the song. He rarely had an opportunity to sing the music he loved best while playing requests, people almost never requested hard rock or metal songs. He watched Janick as he played with his eyes closed, a look of near euphoria on his face. Bruce found himself wishing he could hear him play on electric the way the song was meant to be played. As the song ended the two of them simultaneously dissolved into joyous laughter and Bruce felt something akin to a bond with the guitarist. 

“You are too good a singer to be singing on the streets, Bruce. Have you ever been in a band?” Janick asked, still smiling.

Bruce shook his head. “Playing with others? No, no way.”

“Why not?”

It was a simple question but Bruce had to think about the answer, wanting to be honest with Janick. “I guess I’m not sure I could work that closely with others.”

“You could. You aren’t hard to get along with.”

Bruce smiled a little grimly. “You’re only saying that because you hardly know me.” 

“Okay,” Janick folded his arms, leaning on his guitar, “so let me get to know you better!”

Bruce looked at him in silence for a moment. Janick meant it, that much was obvious. He was genuinely interested in getting to know Bruce and this was something Bruce hadn’t encountered in as long as he could remember. Even the girls who had wanted to latch onto him as boyfriend hadn’t demonstrated any real interest in finding out who he really was, in what he thought or felt.

 

“What do you want to know?” It felt like someone else was using his voice.

“Only what you’re willing to tell me.” Jan smiled gently, a smile that made Bruce’s stomach do a little flip. “I don’t want you to tell me all your secrets!”

Bruce almost snorted. “I have no secrets! I’m exactly who I appear to be – a vagrant, a busker, someone who’ll beg, borrow, or steal to get by in the world.”

Janick looked at him shrewdly. “There’s more to you than that, Bruce. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from volunteering it’s that everyone has a story, they’re all different and they’re all important. Some of the people I work with are just victims or circumstance but some have deeper reasons for being where they are in life, and I think you have deeper reasons.”

Bruce found himself smiling. “Oh yeah? What do you think my story is, then?” He wasn’t angry, he was actually curious.

Janick set his guitar aside and sat back, never taking his eyes from Bruce. “I may be way off base on this, but I think you’re afraid of feeling anything because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”

“Who wouldn’t be afraid of getting hurt?” he asked softly, asking it of himself as much as Janick. “Haven’t you been hurt?” He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth because based on his conversations with Cullen, Janick was definitely familiar with hurt.

Janick’s expression confirmed it, a sadness came into his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I haven’t stopped feeling for people. I think in a way it’s made me feel things more strongly.”

That hit Bruce with unexpected impact because it was clearly true. He suddenly felt guilt and something almost like shame. He had chosen to run away whereas Janick had chosen to face his pain and use it for positive ends. A sudden, clear awareness dawned on him that he didn’t want to hide anymore, he wanted to face life just as Janick was, to risk pain and heartbreak rather than try to escape from it. 

“You know something, Janick?” Bruce said quietly. “You do know me. You know me better than I know myself!”

Jan’s clear gray eyes were locked on his with an intimate intensity. “No, you know your own motivations, you just don’t want to admit that you do.”

Bruce was shaking his head in wonder, not even realizing he was doing it. “You are a braver man than I am, Janick. I’ve always fancied myself as fearless because I’ve slept in doorways and alleys in some of the most dangerous parts of London, but you’re the fearless one.”

Janick laughed, looking embarrassed. “Bollocks! I was only guessing about you, Bruce, based on what I learned in psychology courses I’ve taken. I could have been completely wrong and, worse yet, I could have completely pissed you off.”

“No, I think you just woke me up.” Bruce said, almost as if to himself. He looked up. “Can we play another song?”

“Of course!” Janick picked up the guitar again. “What do you want to sing?”

“Everybody Hurts.”

Janick began strumming the chords without comment.

 

The two men ended up jamming for the better part of the day, talking easily between songs, discussing mostly music but other random subjects as well, though not again delving into anything as deep. Bruce found he was a little nervous about accompanying Janick to his mother’s house and it was obvious that Janick sensed this, he reassured Bruce by saying his mother was just an ordinary woman, not intimidating in the least. Nevertheless, Bruce asked if he could use Jan’s shower and he changed into his spare outfit which was somewhat less worn before they left.

 

Chapter Eight

 

Janick’s mother lived in a modest detached brick home on a quiet residential street on the outskirts of town, the house Jan told Bruce he’d grown up in. They had to walk several blocks from the nearest bus stop to get there and apparently Janick had called his mother while Bruce was in the shower because she flung open the door as they were approaching and greeted them, calling Bruce by name. 

The evening was one Bruce felt sure he would never forget. Janick’s mother was a down-to-earth woman who was as genuine and guileless as Jan. She treated Bruce with a respect that he instinctively knew was sincere, including him as she and Jan talked about his job and his work at the shelter and the intervention center. Mrs. Gers had cooked a traditional ham dinner and it was the first home-cooked meal Bruce had eaten in months, he complimented the food at least a half dozen times during the course of the meal and by the time dessert was served he was feeling very comfortable, which he hadn’t anticipated at all.

Dessert was a choice of two kinds of pie with homemade whipped cream. Bruce chose cherry and literally moaned when he took his first bite.

“Mum’s famous for her pies!“ Jan smiled at him as his mother busied herself at the sideboard against the dining room wall. Jan had chosen the apple pie, still hot from the oven, and the whipped cream he spooned over it melted almost immediately. Bruce watched as Jan licked the spoon, feeling his breath hitch at the sight of the pink tongue swirling across the implement. He swallowed thickly, almost forgetting to chew, and looked away quickly.

“Did you say the music store is closed all next week, dear?” Mrs. Gers said to Jan as she resumed her seat, helping herself to the pie. 

Jan nodded, his mouth full. ”Yeah, the owner is taking his holiday until after the first of the year so he’s closing the place for a week. Even giving us vacation pay! If you need anything done around the house, Mum, now is the time to ask me!”

“I really can’t think of anything. You need some time to relax anyway, son. You’re always either working or at the shelter! You drive yourself too hard!”

“I enjoy it, though. I told them at the shelter I could put in more time this upcoming week but they have it covered, so I guess I’ll just stay at home and play my guitar.”

Mrs. Gers shook her head with an indulgent smile. “You and that instrument! Always practicing, and you’re so good already!”

Janick looked at Bruce with a mischievous smile. “I had a chance to play with a vocalist today. Bruce is a fantastic singer!”

“Are you!?” She turned to Bruce. “That’s wonderful! No wonder you two seem to get along so well!” 

Bruce was a bit surprised that she noticed the rapport he’d been feeling between himself and Janick but she was obviously a very observant woman. 

“It’s one of the reasons!” Jan smiled across at Bruce. “Is my old acoustic still upstairs? We’ll play something so you can hear how good he is!”

“I’d love that! You wouldn’t mind, would you Bruce?” she turned to look at him with eyes so much like Janick’s that Bruce didn’t even consider refusing.

After the two of them helped her clear the table and load the dishwasher Janick ran up to get his guitar from his old bedroom, his long legs taking the stairs two at a time. A few minutes later the three of them were seated in the comfortable living room, Janick tuning the guitar as his mother talked animatedly with Bruce about how Janick had always had a passion for music.

“When he first formed the band we worried, they sometimes traveled long distances in the dead of night, playing at rough bars and clubs, but it made Jan so happy! “

She broke off suddenly, changing the subject as Janick moved closer and sat on the arm of a nearby chair. 

Bruce instinctively understood; the lady was aware that mention of the band would remind Janick of happier times with his lost friend and didn’t want to distress him. He went with the change of subject. 

“What would you like to hear, ma’am?”

She laughed, “Oh, Bruce, call me Louise! It’s Christmas, could you do a Christmas song?” she looked from one to the other of them expectantly.

Jan looked at Bruce hesitantly but Bruce smiled at the lady. “Of course, if Jan’s willing! Is there one you’d like to hear in particular?” He had always steadfastly refused to sing Christmas songs even when offered sizeable tips, but this was different.

“Play anything you like, boys.” She smiled, sitting back.

Bruce paused, trying to remember which Christmas songs he knew. Then he softly began to sing Mary’s Little Boy Child, with Jan playing along as soon as he recognized the tune. Bruce’s voice grew in confidence as he saw the smile spread across Jan’s mother’s face and he glanced over at the man with the guitar, catching Janick looking at him with a strange warm smile. His gray eyes seemed to be sparkling with the brilliant white lights of the Christmas tree reflected in them and Bruce almost lost the beat of the song, forcing himself to look away. They moved on to sing What Child is This and Do You Hear What I Hear and when the last notes of the guitar faded Mrs. Gers quickly stood and came over, giving them both a warm hug. 

“Janick, that was beautiful! And you are so right about Bruce!” she turned to face Bruce, “Thank you, Bruce! It was wonderful, you sing beautifully!”

Bruce felt nonplussed, unsure of how to react. “Um, you’re welcome. Thank you….. thank you for giving me a Christmas.” he managed to mumble.

An hour later Mrs. Gers was showing unmistakable signs of weariness so Janick said that it was time for them to be going. Jan’s mother accompanied them to the door and Bruce thanked her again then walked off a few steps to give Jan a few minutes to tell his mother goodnight. Standing back under the bare trees lining the walkway Bruce looked back as Jan quickly gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Anytime Bruce witnessed things like that, warm gestures of affection and family scenes such as this he had always felt more alone and emptier than ever. These people were kind to him but he knew he wasn’t a part of it and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

Janick joined him and clapped him on the shoulder, “You all right, mate?”

 

“I’m just a little tired, I guess.”

 

“Then we should try to catch the next bus home. Come on!”

Throughout the half hour bus ride Bruce sat deep in thought, half listening as Janick talked quietly on about his mother, Christmases, and music. He kept going over the day in his mind and going back to how Jan said he lived as he did because he was afraid; of being hurt, afraid of facing the real world, afraid of emotions and closeness. Bruce had always felt he was a strong person, especially in light of how he lived and things he had seen, but it was gradually dawning on him that he was really a coward. He felt a resolve growing in him to do something about it, though he didn’t know what.  
”We’re home, mate.” Jan touched Bruce’s arm briefly, bringing him back to the present with a start. They exited the bus at the stop at the end of Janick’s block and as they walked to the building a light snow began to fall. Inside the flat Janick set about putting away the gifts his mother had given him, Bruce, meanwhile, began spreading the blanket and pillow on the couch. He knew he had promised himself he would leave town as soon as he could but the very idea dismayed him. Always before, the prospect of moving on to another town had given him a kind of anticipation but now he only felt dread, a kind of dismal bleakness when he thought of leaving this town. No, he mentally corrected himself, it wasn’t the thought of leaving this town that filled him with dismay. It was the thought of leaving Janick.

 

He felt strange, like he was outside himself, it made no sense to him. He had to think. Janick seemingly believed Bruce when he said he was tired, he went to bed shortly, looking back from his bedroom door at Bruce who still sat on the edge of the couch.

“Are you all right, Bruce?”

Bruce looked up, managing a smile. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning, Janick. And …. thank you for giving me a wonderful Christmas.”

“It’s nothing to thank me for,” Janick replied softly. “It’s what friends do.” and with a final smile he closed the door.

Bruce used the bathroom then lay down, switching off the lamp a bit reluctantly, half afraid of the thoughts he knew would flood his mind as he lay waiting for sleep. Sleep didn’t come easily. Years and years of withdrawing from people except on the most superficial level was now feeling like a waste and like abject cowardice on his part. But could he actually try to change? He drifted to sleep imagining how difficult it would be to settle down, to find a steady job and build friendships, to own a car and pay rent and go grocery shopping and do all the things he knew in his heart that a man his age should be doing.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dozing when a slight sound awakened him. Living on the streets had honed his senses to where any unexpected sound brought him instantly awake. He strained his ears then heard it again, even quieter than before. It was coming from Janick’s room. Without hesitating Bruce got up and crossed quickly to Janick’s bedroom door. He stood outside, undecided, unsure of what he’d heard, then it came again, clear this time. The sound of muffled crying. 

 

Chapter Nine

 

Bruce didn’t hesitate, he didn’t even really think about it.  He opened the bedroom door. The room was bathed in streetlights from the narrow window at the end of the bed and the glow of a clock on the bed stand and Bruce could see the figure sitting up in the bed, head bowed and with arms clasped tightly around his bent knees.  He hesitated then, suddenly aware that he was intruding in Janick’s private space.

Jan raised his head and looked toward him and Bruce could see his face wet with tears.  All hesitation was gone then and he was at the bedside before he was conscious of having moved. He found himself sitting on the bed and tentatively reaching out, his fingertips grazing the silky hair spilling over the bare white shoulders.

“Janick?  What’s wrong?”

Jan looked at him but didn’t reply, then bowed his head over his knees again.

Bruce sat further on the bed now, letting his fingers slide through the soft hair to rest on the warm skin. 

“Please, don’t be upset.”  Bruce knew his words were mere platitudes, he didn’t even know what Jan was so upset over, but he knew it wrenched at his heart to see the normally upbeat man crying and he felt an overwhelming urge to do something, anything, to get him to stop.

Jan’s only response was a slight shake of his head and Bruce couldn’t seem to help himself, he put his arm around the other man and pulled him close.  To his surprise, Jan turned and melted into him, his hands clutching at Bruce’s shoulders as he broke into fresh almost silent sobs against Bruce’s chest.

Bruce felt his own eyes prickle with tears of empathy and he closed both arms around the distraught man, placing one hand at the back of Jan’s head to cradle him close.  Never in his life had Bruce been in a situation like this, the emotion he was feeling for the slim blonde was coursing through him as he stroked his hair and whispered nonsensical soothing sounds, sounds he never knew he was capable of.

“Janick, Jan, it’s okay, it will be all right.  Everything will be all right.” He murmured into Jan’s hair.  “Don’t be sad, I don’t want to see you sad.”

After a couple of minutes he felt the shaking of Jan’s shoulders lessen and the other man drew away from him a little.   Jan took a shaky breath and ran his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping good anyway.  Maybe I shouldn’t have come in your room like this, but….. what’s wrong?  Is there anything I can do to help?” Bruce felt at that moment he’d do anything on earth if it would stop Jan from feeling sad.

Janick shook his head, brushing again at his eyes, “No, I’m okay.  I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re clearly upset, there’s nothing stupid about that.”  Bruce’s voice was soft. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Jan shook his head again, looking away out the window.  “Talking wouldn’t help. I have to stop being such a ….”  His voice shook, “being such an idiot. I never seem to learn!”

Bruce still had a hand on Jan’s shoulder and he was unconsciously rubbing little circles.  He decided to take a chance. “Were you feeling sad about Gerard?” 

Jan looked at him sharply, his mouth opening to ask the obvious question.  Bruce forestalled him.

“I was playing cards with Cullen and he mentioned you’d lost a good friend to drugs.  It’s only natural you’d be sad about that, especially around Christmas.”

Jan’s mouth twisted a little.  “I suppose Cullen told you all about what it was like between Gerard and me, then!”  There was a touch of bitter resignation in his words.

Bruce shook his head, answering truthfully “He only said you two were close friends and were in a band together.”

Jan’s voice was a mere whisper when he spoke again, continuing to look out the window.  “We started the band together when we were still in school. We…..” he turned to look at Bruce then, “we were lovers, Bruce. You probably find that disgusting.”

Bruce calmly shook his head, “Of course not.  Why would I find love disgusting?” Up until that moment Bruce would have denied that he believed love even existed.

Jan sighed tiredly, “Well, some people do.  And it didn’t help that Gerard was…. difficult.  He experimented with drugs even before he went to London, he drank a lot, he…..he fooled around.  No one could understand why I was with him.”

“It’s not up to anyone else to understand something like that.”  Bruce said quietly. “It isn’t anyone else’s business.”

“Toward the end we were drifting apart.”  Jan continued, “He was furious when I didn’t quit my classes and move down to London with him, but I actually thought a little time apart would do us good.  Then…..then he was dead!” 

Bruce saw fresh tears track their way down Jan’s face then and without thinking he reached out and gently swiped them away.

“You couldn’t have known that would happen, Jan.  You did what you felt you had to do. You can’t second guess yourself now, and maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference if you’d gone with him anyway.”

“It probably wouldn’t have,” Jan admitted, “but it still hurts that he’s gone.  And maybe I shouldn’t have loved him in the first place, but I’m making the same mistake again and it’s going to hurt just as much!”

Bruce had no idea what Jan was talking about.  “What mistake, Jan? Maybe whatever it is won’t hurt you, maybe it will be okay.”

Jan shook his head almost violently and turned away abruptly.  “No. But it’s my own fault. I should have known better.”

The despair in his voice tore at Bruce and he grasped the creamy white shoulder, pulling Jan closer to circle his arm around him.  This had the unexpected result of making Jan burst into fresh tears.

"Jan, please, stop crying!  Talk to me, tell me what you mean.  You should have known better about what?"

Bruce felt Jan slump as though giving up, looking down at his hands still clasped around his knees.  "About you!" The blonde man's words were scarcely audible. 

 

"Me?"  Bruce wasn't sure what Jan was trying to say.  He reached and took Jan's chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him.  His eyes were adjusted to the dim light now and he could clearly see the anguish in the moist gray eyes.  "What do you mean?"

When Jan spoke his voice was so quiet Bruce had to strain to hear him from mere inches away.  "I care about you Bruce! I mean.... I care about everyone at the shelter, but not like this! This is ...."  he broke off, taking a shaky breath and looking away again “I'm sorry, Bruce. I shouldn't have said anything.  I know you're going to leave, you'll probably leave tomorrow! It's not your fault I'm stupid enough to...to fall for you!"

"You....you what?"  Bruce felt a roaring in his ears, he was certain he must have misunderstood.  His chest felt constricted. "Is that why you're upset, because you think I'm going to leave?  Janick..." he forced Jan to face him again, “I was lying awake for hours tonight thinking about what we were talking about yesterday.  You opened my eyes to what an immature idiot I've been, running away from life, terrified of feeling anything for anyone! I can't go back to living like that. I want to stay in this town, find a job, get a real place to live. I can't leave here; I can’t leave you!!! I would never have believed it was possible, but I love you, Janick!" Even as he said the words Bruce felt a weight left from his shoulders, he felt the fears he'd been living under for so long fall away.  The confusion he felt around Janick, the way the man had overtaken his every waking thought, overtaken even his dreams, made sense now. He was in love!

Jan was staring at him, disbelief in his face, and Bruce leaned in instinctively to press a feather-light kiss to the other man's lips.  "I'm in love with you, Janick." he repeated softly. "And I won't leave, I won't hurt you. I …. I couldn't."

Janick’s eyes fluttered closed and Bruce felt just a slight return of the soft kiss, then he opened his eyes again and slipped his arms lightly, almost hesitantly around Bruce.  His eyes were only a few inches from Bruce’s and Bruce felt his heart pounding, the look in those eyes was open, honest, and trusting. Trusting! No one had looked that way at Bruce before, it felt as though everything depended on what Bruce did or said, it was incredibly humbling and the responsibility of it was both frightening and exhilarating.

Janick slowly raised his hand and touched Bruce’s face almost reverently, and Bruce’s eyes misted over.  A part of his mind was completely aware of the risk he was taking by feeling this way for Janick. He knew perfectly well that he barely knew Jan, that by breaking the long chain of running from all personal commitments was a tremendous gamble and one that could well backfire on him.  

Then Janick kissed him and all those doubts and fears vanished. 

It was worth it, he knew.  It was worth anything to feel those lips so soft against his own, to feel the warmth of Jan’s fingers on his back and smell the scent of Jan’s hair in his nostrils.  He heard himself make a sound between a moan and a sigh and he returned the kiss, almost dizzy from the overwhelming feelings flooding his mind. This was unbelievable but there was no way he could deny it.  Love was real, and he was capable of feeling it. Not only that, but someone also cared for him!

Janick’s kiss became more intense and Bruce responded instinctively, tightening his arms around the slender blonde and feeling himself respond to the close proximity to the other man as their bodies touched.  Bruce lay back on the bed, pulling Jan down with him, trailing his lips across the other man’s cheeks, still faintly salty from the drying tears.

“I want you, Janick!”  he murmured against his neck, “I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, but I won’t push you into anything.”

“You aren’t,” Janick breathed, his breath hot and moist against Bruce’s cheek.  “I want you too. When I saw you in the shower that night….,” his words faltered and he kissed Bruce again, the tip of his tongue slipping between Bruce’s lips to be eagerly met by Bruce’s own.  Bruce had kissed a lot of people, both men and women, and he had slept with a good many of them but this felt different, it felt new and fresh somehow.

 

**********************************************************

 

Chapter Ten

 

  
Janick was wearing the sleeveless tee and lounge pants he wore to bed and Bruce could feel the heat of his body practically burning through the fabric.  Even that thin layer was too much between them, though, and Bruce’s hand slipped beneath the hem of the shirt to skim across the small of Jan’s back. The skin was smooth and supple, lean muscles evident beneath the surface as Bruce let his hand slide higher. Jan sighed, threading his fingers through Bruce’s hair as he kissed and nibbled at his lips, abstractedly molding his body against Bruce.

“If we make love,” Janick asked softly, “will you still be here in the morning?”

“I’ll be here as long as you want me to be,” Bruce promised, knowing that he meant every word.  He leaned over the other man, losing himself in the clear gray eyes. He leaned and kissed Janick’s forehead, each cheek, then his lips, Jan slipped both hands behind Bruce’s head, holding him in place as the kiss deepened and intensified.  Half lying across Jan, Bruce could feel the excitement building in him, could feel a faint tremor run through the slender form and the unmistakable hardening against his hip. 

He had to have more contact, he had to feel Janick’s bare skin against his own.  Hooking his fingers under Jan’s shirt Bruce pulled it up and over his head. Jan lay beneath him now, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly, smooth and hairless, and Bruce lowered his lips to kiss his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, dipping his tongue in the hollow of Jan’s throat and feeling him swallow.  He felt Jan’s fingers beneath the back of his shirt, slipping up his spine and down his flanks, flattening on his back to pull him closer, and he broke away briefly to pull off his shirt and toss it aside. Jan let out a humming moan as his fingers ran through Bruce’s abundant chest hair, briefly flicking across his nipples and causing Bruce’s breath to catch.  Jan keyed in on the response and lowered his mouth to the hardened buds, tongue teasing around them before his lips closed over one. Bruce felt the light nip of Jan’s teeth and thought he was going to burst through his jeans.

Jan was obviously thinking the same thing; his hands reached around to cup Bruce’s muscular arse and pull him tight until their groins were in full contact.

“Take of your pants, Bruce,” Jan moaned, moving his hips against Bruce, and Bruce hurried to comply.  By the time he’d thrown his jeans aside and returned to Janick the other man was completely nude as well and Bruce’s head swam at the sensation of his hard heat trapped between them, feeling the moisture of Jan’s excitement and knowing he, too, was in the same state.

He couldn’t wait another second, he had to taste Jan and he slipped down his body, his hands trailing along the lean, wiry muscles down to the angular hips as he kissed a trail down past the taut stomach to the light downy hair below.   He ran his palm lightly over Jan’s erection, hearing Jan’s suck in his breath through his teeth at the sensation, then he increased the pressure, pressing kisses to Jan’s quivering stomach.

“Bruuccee…” Jan groaned softly, his hands going to Bruce’s hair, resting lightly but Bruce sensed the tension and without warning he placed a long lick up the underside of Janick’s member. 

Jan’s hips jerked uncontrollably and Bruce couldn’t stop now, he licked again then took Jan in his mouth, tasting him for the first time.  It had been a while since he’d done this but Bruce moved on instinct, he couldn’t get enough of the taste of Jan and grew more enthusiastic until he felt Jan’s fingers curl into his hair.

“Bruce, stop, stop…. I want you to fuck me!”  he gasped, breathless, “Will you fuck me, Bruce?”

Bruce raised up and kissed Jan, loving how the blonde passionately met his tongue with his own, twirling and dueling as he spread his legs around Bruce, wrapping them around his waist.

This was something Bruce had only done a few times in his life, he had been the recipient more often, but he didn’t hesitate.  Jan’s head tipped back against the pillow, long hair spilling over the white pillow, and he raised his hips as Bruce positioned himself.  Bruce paused, unsure if he should proceed without some sort of lubricant, but to his astonishment Jan reached down and took him in his hand, guiding him to where he needed him to be. Bruce looked down and met his eyes and Jan gave a brief nod.

A moment later they were joined and he had to stop, holding stock still for a moment because the sensation was almost too much to bear.  Jan winced a bit at the first penetration but now he was gazing up at Bruce with lust-glazed eyes that still managed to express genuine affection.  If anyone had asked Bruce before that day if he believed one could actually see love in another’s eyes he would have scoffed, but he believed it now, it was there.  

Jan reached up then and pulled Bruce down for a kiss and Bruce began moving in a rhythm as old as time itself.  Jan’s moans and sighs turned Bruce on like nothing he had ever experienced. They both knew it wasn’t going to take long, they were both too wrought up, and when Bruce felt Jan’s hand slip between them to stroke himself he covered the hand with his own, moving with it.  Less than a minute later he felt Jan’s legs begin to quiver around his waist and he sat upright, knowing there was an angle that would make it better for Jan though he wasn’t sure how to find it. He knew immediately when he did, however; Jan arched his back, tightened his legs around Bruce, and reached a long, powerful orgasm, followed quickly by Bruce’s own, so intense he felt he would surely pass out.

He nearly fell across Jan, he felt like every bone and muscle in his body had turned to spaghetti.  Jan smiled dreamily as Bruce lay down at his side, wrapping his arms around his slender body and feeling the faint tremors that still ran through his lover.  He kissed Jan tenderly and Jan curled up against him. They lay, almost dozing, then Jan spoke, his voice almost fearful.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

 

It never occurred Bruce to not be and it dawned on him that Janick, somewhat understandably, was unsure of where they stood.

“I said that I would be, and I will. I promise you I will be here for as long as you want me here.  I meant what I said earlier, Janick. I love you.” He tenderly kissed the tip of Jan’s nose.

“I feel something stronger for you than I’ve ever felt for anyone.  It…… it kind of frightens me.” Jan whispered. “But I love you, too.”

“The way I feel frightens me a little too,” Bruce admitted quietly.  “It came out of nowhere, I wasn’t expecting anything like that to ever happen to me.  Hell, I didn’t even believe it was possible. But I know one thing for certain, Jan. What I feel is here to stay.”

Jan’s only response was to tighten his arms around the brunette and snuggle into his chest.  Bruce stroked Jan’s long blonde hair until he drifted into a warm, contented sleep.

                                              

When Jan awake in the morning he felt sated and content.  It took him a moment to remember why, and to identify the warmth he was resting against.  The only person he had ever slept the entire night with until now had been Gerard, and even that had been sporadic.  When White Spirit began to get gigs further from home they would share a motel room when they could afford it, but at home Jan had lived with his mother until he started university.  He opened his eyes to see Bruce sleeping contentedly mere inches away, face shadowed with an overnight’s growth of beard, long straight brown hair falling across the pillow and brushing Jan’s shoulder, Bruce’s hand still rested lightly in Jan’s hair and Jan moved his head slightly to press a small kiss to it.  Hundreds of people had come through the shelter in the time he had been working there, many of them young men and some as attractive as Bruce, but he had never felt this kind of attraction for anyone.

A part of his mind shrank away from admitting it but he hadn’t felt this way toward Gerard, either.  He had only been seventeen when they got together and it had been as heady and exciting as only a first love could be, but it hadn’t stayed that way.  Gerard was always chasing the next thrill, be it booze or drugs or sexual liaisons with other people. The last year before Gerard’s death, Jan had been just going through the motions, believing in their music as strongly as ever but not in their relationship.  The guilt over that had been tremendous when he learned of Gerard’s death and especially when he learned how he had died. He felt that he should have done something to save the other man, though he didn’t know what that could have been. 

It seemed unbelievable that he felt this strongly for Bruce so quickly when he had been with Gerard six years and it had never been this powerful in all that time. Even more unbelievable was the realization that he believed in Bruce.  By his own admission Bruce was a vagrant, a drifter and a petty thief who had closed himself off from the rest of humanity as well as he could to avoid the very kind of bond he now professed to feel for Janick. Yet, Jan believed he meant it when he said he wanted to change that part of his life, and that he loved Jan.  He tried to remind himself that Bruce could be a liar and a con man, he could even have some sort of STD and they hadn’t used any protection, but though he knew he should remain on his guard, his heart and his gut told him to trust Bruce. He could get hurt, badly hurt, and he was well aware of it, but still he wanted to take the chance.  It was almost like he had no choice, it felt as though loving Bruce was what he was destined to do.

 

 Chapter Eleven

 

Bruce was awakened by the sensation of something soft touching his hand and he opened his eyes without moving his head.  Janick lay nestled into the crook of his neck and had just softly kissed his hand. His heart swelled with love for this soft spoken, gentle hearted blonde.   He was resolved to begin his new life, a life he’d shunned since he was fifteen years old, and this new life included Janick. 

Bruce watched Janick without the other man being aware of him for a few moments.  He could almost read Jan’s thoughts, his face and eyes were very expressive, and he would have been able to guess what someone would be feeling after such a sudden life change anyway.  It was perfectly normal to wonder what one was getting oneself into and in this case it was even more understandable. They scarcely knew each other and were from completely different lifestyles.  A brief fear came over Bruce that perhaps Jan would decide he was too much of a risk, then Jan placed another kiss to the back of his hand, soft because he believed Bruce to be still asleep, and that fear vanished.

“Good morning,” he whispered and Jan’s eyes raised to meet his, clear gray eyes that showed no doubt or trepidation whatsoever.

“Good morning,” he replied and reached up to touch Bruce’s stubbled cheek, his touch gentle.

“I have to pee.”  Bruce announced, and Jan giggled but shifted away to allow Bruce to get out of bed.  While in the bathroom Bruce took a few minutes to shave and brush his teeth, he had always been careful of his hygiene no matter what circumstances he was in, and when he returned to the bed he found Jan sitting up against the headboard looking out the window at the foot of the bed.  He flipped back the covers for Bruce, still completely nude, to get in, smiling as he did.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much body hair on one person.”  He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers through the straight dark hair on Bruce’s chest, and even at that casual touch Bruce felt a stir of desire.  Jan’s hair was disheveled and falling across his creamy shoulders, his long white arms resting outside the coverlet he’d drawn up to his chest.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so beautiful!”  Bruce responded, slipping an arm around Jan and pulling him in for a kiss.  “You’re perfect, Janick!”

Jan laughed, clearly embarrassed.  “I’m pale and skinny and built like a gangly kid.”

“Oh, you are definitely not a kid!”  Bruce murmured, his voice low as he kissed the blonde again, lingering this time and savoring the taste of the other man on his lips.  Jan deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping between Bruce’s lips and Bruce felt himself overwhelmed with a rush of passion so strong it was staggering.    Janick kissed with an almost wild zeal, throwing one long leg over Bruce and half climbing on top of him as he continued to kiss him hungrily along his jaw and down his neck as his hands combed through the hair on Bruce’s stomach, venturing lower to where Bruce was already fully hard for him. Moments later Jan vanished beneath the covers and Bruce felt him kiss lower and lower until suddenly he was encompassed in velvety heat that took his breath away.

Janick was revealing a tendency toward merciless teasing, bringing Bruce so close to the brink that he thought he would surely lose his mind only to draw away and focus on something different, giving equal attention to Bruce’s balls and running his tongue up his inner thighs.  As soon as the tingles of imminent orgasm subsided he was back, taking Bruce in as deeply as he could. Bruce could only lie back, his fingers tangled in Jan’s wild hair as the buildup began all over again. Never very vocal during sex, Bruce suddenly cried out. “Ahh, God, Janick, I can’t take it anymore!!”

He could have sworn he felt Jan smile around him and suddenly he was back up to Bruce’s level, kissing him with unrestrained abandon as he once again slid a leg over Bruce and positioned himself over him.  Bruce looked up, his eyes locking onto Jan’s as the blonde sat upright and slowly sank down onto him. 

What followed was the most incredible sex Bruce could ever have imagined.  Janick rode him with an unbridled, uninhibited passion, somehow managing to lean and kiss Bruce deeply without breaking rhythm as they climbed to an almost simultaneous orgasm that Bruce imagined must surely have shaken the foundations of the earth.  Bruce’s mind was filled with the vision of Janick, his head thrown back and his hair clinging to his shoulders, a light sheen of perspiration glistening on his chest even though the room was rather cool.  It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, yet when Jan opened his eyes and looked at him the love was evident as well. The combination drove Bruce over the edge almost without warning and before he even regained his senses he felt Jan’s completion hot across his belly.                          

 

Jan collapsed, his hair falling across Bruce’s face.  Bruce breathed in the scent, his arms closing tight around the exhausted body atop his, then he gently rolled, separating their bodies but never letting go, cradling Jan close and placing a dozen kisses to the top of his head. 

It was a few minutes before Jan’s breathing slowed and he looked up at Bruce with a tired smile.

“You are incredible.”  Bruce kissed his forehead.  “You’re absolutely wild in bed!  What did I ever do to deserve you?!”

Jan merely giggled, curling into Bruce and sighing contentedly.  The two of them dozed for another hour before finally getting up for the day only to share a shower and another heated session under the cascading water..  It was nearly noon before they found themselves at the kitchen table over some cold sandwiches made from the ham Jan’s mother had insisted they take home with them the night before.  Jan had the week off his job at the music store but had his usual night at the shelter from 6 PM until midnight. Bruce, however, was anxious to start looking for a regular job and the two of them sat discussing this as they ate.

“You don’t have to go out looking right away, Bruce.  It’s a slow time of year for employment around here anyway and with the Christmas season over there will be more layoffs than openings. Stay here, get to know the area. Something will come along.”

Bruce was shaking his head before Janick finished speaking “No, I have to get out and try, I have to at least see what’s available.  I’m not going to stay here with you unless I can contribute toward expenses. I’ll go back to the shelter before I’d do that.”

Janick immediately looked distressed, “Don’t do that, please!  I want you here, I don’t care if you aren’t bringing any money in!”

“I have to prove myself, Jan.  I want to do this right.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me!”  Jan’s clear eyes were glistening. “I just don’t want to be away from you!”

“Then help me figure out where to look for a job.  You know the town, and you know the area. Where can someone with no education, training, or work history look for a job?”

Jan looked thoughtful.  “What sort of work have you done in the past?”

“Seasonal stuff.  I’ve worked as a groundskeeper a few times, on a road construction crew, on building sites.  I’ve even worked as a dishwasher in pubs sometimes in exchange for the landlord letting me sleep in the back.”

They finally decided that Bruce’s best chance was to apply at the pubs and restaurants around town and then move on to the smaller shops or petrol stations.  After cleaning up after lunch Bruce went out on his first legitimate job-hunting foray. Janick wanted to accompany him but Bruce insisted he wanted to this alone, agreeing to come by the shelter later to let Jan know how he’d fared.

Jan looked at him for a long minute as he was putting on his jacket and he read the wariness in the other man’s eyes. He crossed the room and put his hands on the blonde’s slim shoulders.

“I will be there, I promise.”

Jan smiled a little sheepishly but didn’t deny being worried that Bruce wouldn’t return. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Bruce gave him a tender kiss. “Yes, you will.”

Bruce walked for hours, eventually putting in three job applications that afternoon and growing more discouraged with each one. Some businesses were closed for Boxing Day, two applications were taken without a glance and thrust either in a file or put on a desk in the bosses office and one, though read by the manager as soon as Bruce handed it in, was met with an almost perceptible disapproval. He couldn’t blame the man. He was a 25-year-old man with virtually no experience or skills to speak of. He had an urge to linger in the last pub he visited and try to cadge a few drinks even though they weren’t looking for any help at that time but he reminded himself that Janick would be at the shelter by now. Head down against the wind, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jeans, he made his way over there.

As close to Christmas as it still was the shelter was rather busy and Janick was folding clean linens when Bruce arrived. Bruce wordlessly jumped in and started helping and Janick looked up, breaking into a brilliant smile on seeing him. Bruce couldn’t stop himself from beaming back. The two of them talked quietly as Jan worked and Bruce helped with whatever he could without really giving it much thought. Jan was busy patiently explaining the shelter rules to a Pakistani man who spoke very little English so Bruce sat on the floor in the play area cleaning the children’s toys with disinfectant wipes, continuing the task they had been performing when the Pakistani family arrived. There were no children at the shelter this night and the shelter’s policy required the toys be disinfected as often as possible. Bruce was lost in thought and was a bit startled when someone spoke his name.

It was Cullen, and Bruce could see instantly that he was high again.

“You working here now, Bruce?”

“Just killing time.” Now that he had no need to pump the man for information on Janick Bruce didn’t want to engage him in conversation.  
Cullen had other ideas, however. He seemed to regard Bruce as a buddy and sat down on one of the kiddie chairs, ignoring the fact that it creaked beneath his weight. “I’d have thought you’d be buddying up to Janick, you seemed so damned interested in him!”

Bruce had obviously underestimated Cullen; he’d thought he had been casual enough that the man wouldn’t notice his persistent queries about Jan. Now that Cullen was closer Bruce could see unmistakable signs he’d recently smoked meth. His eyes were darting around, unable to look at any one thing for more than a few seconds, and he was scratching at a raw area of his forearm. Bruce tensed up. He’d had some very unpleasant encounters with meth heads over the years and he knew Cullen was at the point where he could be unpredictable. 

“I think you should go, mate.” He suggested casually. “Somebody’s going to notice you’re tweaking.”

“Fuck that!” Cullen waved a hand dismissively. “I need a place to sleep tonight and it’s cold as hell out.”

“You’re not going to be able to sleep.” Bruce knew the man was still too high to relax enough to get any sleep.

“Well, I still can’t very well stay out in the cold, can I? Don’t worry, Janick will never notice. I remember a dozen times Gerry was high as a kite and Jan never had a clue. He probably even liked it, Gerard was an animal in the sack when he was high!”

Bruce was on his feet before he was conscious of even moving and he grabbed Cullen by the collar, jerking him to his feet. He kept his voice low but got right in Cullen’s face. “I. Want. You. Out. Of. Here! RIGHT NOW!”

He let go and Cullen reeled a few steps back, glaring wildly at Bruce.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, man? I thought we were mates!”

“I’m not friends with meth heads.” Bruce said contemptuously. Cullen looked at him a moment longer then a nasty smile came over his faced.

“No, no, man, that’s not it. You’re pissed because of what I said about Janick! That’s it, isn’t it?” He laughed a little wildly, the cocktail of drugs in his system making him reckless. “You lost it when I said how much Jan loved to get fucked by Gerard! We all knew it, man! When the band let me come along on out of town gigs we could hear them getting it on in the next room at the motel, sometimes we heard them going at it in the back of the van! Jan moans like a whore and we all knew it was him getting reamed, not Gerard!”

Bruce had never been known for having a long fuse and before Cullen even finished talking Bruce hit him with a solid punch on the jaw, sending him careening back into the shelves against the wall. Every head in the room turned, the room going completely silent for a split second before everyone started talking again, shouting questions or simply telling them to take it outside. Bruce looked up and met Janick’s eyes across the room. There was surprise and concern there but also something else. It seemed to Bruce as if Jan expected this kind of behavior from him; a fight in a charity shelter for the underprivileged. Shame washed over Bruce and he turned and strode out of the building before Cullen was even able to get up from where he was slumped on the floor. 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

Bruce thought he heard Janick call after him as he left the shelter but he merely walked faster. Being the only volunteer on duty, he knew Jan couldn’t leave the premises to follow him and he had to get away. Cullen’s words were burning in his mind and at their edges were visions he was struggling to push away, visions of Janick with the unknown Gerard, visions of the two of them having sex anywhere and everywhere they possibly could while behind Jan’s back Gerard experimenting with all sorts of drugs and screwing around with God knows who. He didn’t understand why he was so upset over it, though. Janick had been completely honest with him about Gerard and it wasn’t like Bruce hadn’t been screwing around every chance he got ever since he was out on his own. 

Bruce had been busy trying to make sense of why he’d punched Cullen and not paying attention to where he was walking so when he looked up he discovered he’d wandered near a construction zone. Corrugated steel fencing lined the sidewalk and sections of the area were blocked to foot traffic. Bruce wandered the area, so lost in thought he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, then he thought of Janick. Fuck! He had no idea what time it was but he was sure Jan had finished his stint at the shelter and was back at the flat. He had to get back, he had to go……. home?

 

It took Bruce the better part of an hour to get back to Janick’s. Unfamiliar with the town, he took several wrong streets but finally things began to look familiar. He climbed the narrow stairs but paused at the door, his hand on the knob. Did Jan even want him there after he’d knocked Cullen down? He took a deep breath and turned the handle, half expecting it to be locked.

Jan was sitting on the couch with his acoustic guitar on his knee but he hadn’t been playing, he was just sitting with his head bowed over the instrument and he looked up quickly when Bruce came in.

“Bruce!” Jan stood “Thank God you came back!” then he bit his lip as though he feared he said too much.

Bruce was hesitating by the door. “Is it all right if I come in?”

“Of course you can come in. This is your home.”

Bruce crossed over to Jan, “I wasn’t sure, after what I did. That wasn’t the time or place …….”

Jan stopped him, “No, don’t apologize! Cullen was fucked up, I saw it as soon as I got closer to him. I told him he can’t come back any more. He…. he didn’t take it very well.” He smiled a bit ruefully.

“What did he do?” Bruce asked quickly, suddenly protective.

Jan smiled and took a step closer, “Nothing, he just cursed a lot. He won’t be back, he knows better. But…. why did you hit him?”

He was standing very close to Bruce now and Bruce couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and pulling him into his arms. “He just said some shit I didn’t like. I shouldn’t let it get to me, I knew he was high and didn’t know what he was saying.”

Jan took Bruce’s hand and sat him down on the couch next to him. “He said something about me, didn’t he?” It wasn’t even a question, Jan knew it was true.

“He was just high.” Bruce said quietly, raising his hand to cup Jan’s face. “Nothing he says matters. I have to get better at controlling my temper.”

Jan leaned into Bruce’s touch. “People say things about me, about me and Gerry. Even after two years they still talk. Not so much about our being in a relationship but about…. about me. About how I used to let him treat me.”

 

Bruce pulled Jan in and held him close. “It’s all the past now, love. None of it matters anymore. Nobody will ever treat you like that again, I promise you. And fuck what scum like Cullen say.” Bruce softened his voice, pressing a kiss to the top of Janick’s head. “In a way it was my fault Cullen was talking to me about you, anyway. I asked him about you a couple of times. I…. I was interested in you, I wanted to know more about you.”

Jan smiled when he heard Bruce’s use of the endearment and he tightened his arms around the darker man, kissing his cheek and then his neck, looking up at him. “Really? You could have just come over and talked to me, you know.”

Bruce gave a soft laugh, “I should have. I suppose I thought you only saw me as just another charity case”

Jan shook his head, “You were different from the first moment I saw you.” He moved closer and kissed Bruce’s lips softly, pressing small kisses to the corners of his lips before kissing him full on the mouth, his lips lingering on Bruce’s.  Bruce felt almost as though he was floating, the tenderness in Jan’s touch and in his eyes was both arousing and comforting. Wordlessly the two moved into the bedroom. Bruce had time only to think ‘this is my home now, this is my bedroom too’ before Jan turned to him and kissed him ardently, with more force and intensity than in the living room, and Bruce felt the spark ignite in him that swept him away. Dawn was lighting the sky before the two men fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, still wrapped in a tangle of sheets and limbs and even then Bruce felt he had not had enough of the other man. He couldn’t imagine that he would never get enough.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Bruce was getting increasingly discouraged. He had been out looking for work every day for five days now and hadn’t even been called for an interview. He tried for everything he possibly could, going through the classifieds every morning as he sat with Jan over coffee. Usually Jan sat next to him quietly playing his guitar, sometime scribbling in a notebook. Bruce had been surprised but impressed when he discovered that Janick wrote music and even more impressed as he listened to the music. Jan did it as a hobby simply because he enjoyed it, but though Bruce didn’t say it he felt that the music was so good it should be performed and shared with the world. When he was sure his immediate neighbors were out Jan plugged in an electric and played the songs as they were meant to be played, though he still had to keep the amp turned down to a minimum volume. He told Bruce that he generally played at work when business was slow, the manager encouraged it out of the belief that it helped business. 

A fine freezing drizzle was falling on Friday evening as Bruce walked to the homeless shelter. It was Janick’s night to volunteer and Bruce knew he would want to hear about his job search, fruitless though it had been. On Wednesday when Jan was working his volunteer shift Bruce had stayed with him all evening, helping and generally keeping him company. It was an eye-opener for Bruce to learn how much actual work went into maintaining a charity operation such as the shelter, how many regulations had to be followed and how much paperwork needed to be kept. He took over the manual work, freeing Jan to catch up on the clerical part of it. Jan hadn’t been going to his other volunteering job that week at the drug intervention center, he told Bruce that basically all he did there was sit in on the group counseling sessions to take notes on the topics for record keeping and that he would rather be spending that time with Bruce. At first Bruce felt a bit guilty but he realized that it was Jan’s choice.

He was late getting to the shelter this night, he had spent over two hours waiting in line at a small mattress factory that was holding open interviews, and when he walked in he was met with the sound of Janick’s guitar. Jan looked up as he entered, giving him a brilliant smile that warmed his heart instantly but he was still a bit troubled by the look of relief he sometimes saw in Jan’s eyes when he arrived. It was never said out loud but Bruce knew instinctively that Jan was still unsure of him, never quite certain he wouldn’t simply walk away. Bruce was at a loss how to reassure him, he was reluctant to even bring up the subject, telling himself maybe he was imagining it.

He went over and quietly watched as Jan sang for five young children who were gathered around him in a semi-circle. A young couple sat nearby, obviously the kid’s parents, and two or three older people Bruce recognized as regulars at the shelter but these were the only guests present. Bruce sat crossed legged on the floor near the children as they sang a discordant song from a popular children’s television show, finding himself smiling as he watched his lover. The children adored Janick and it was obvious he loved being with them, leading Bruce to feel a twinge of worry. Jan would never be able to father a child as long as he was with Bruce, something that hadn’t occurred to him until that moment. He’d never given any thought to having children himself, the idea had been far from the realm of possibility for him as a drifting ne’er do well, but he felt a kind of warmth as he watched the faces of these kids light up as Jan played. For the first time in his life he wondered what kind of father he would be. The very thought made his heart soften.

The phone rang after a moment and Jan excused himself to answer it. One little boy of about five stared after Jan then shifted his large dark eyes to look at Bruce.

“Can you play the guitar, mister?”

Bruce laughed a bit, “No, afraid not. Sorry.”

The boy looked downcast and started to turn away when Bruce heard himself speak up. “But I can sing. Would you like to hear me sing something?”

“Yeah!” The boy clapped his hands and was immediately echoed by his brothers and sisters. “Yeah, sing something for us! Please, mister???”

Part of Bruce couldn’t believe he was doing this. “What do you want me to sing, then?”

“Anything! Sing us something fun!” A girl of seven or eight sat forward eagerly, the others following suit.

Bruce thought for a moment then a silly song he’d heard on television one night when he’d been hanging around a department store picking pockets popped into his head. He remembered it because it was so silly. He started singing:

“Don’t put your trousers on your head, Fred  
You know you should put your legs in those  
Fasten up your buttons and your zip, Pip  
That’s the way you wear your clothes”

The kids all burst into giggles and when he’d finished they made him sing it again, singing along as best they could. Janick returned before they were finished and picked up his guitar, improvising along. Bruce didn’t miss how his eyes shined when he looked over at him.

“You lot like the silly songs, then?” he asked the kids. “Right, then, do you know Rattlin’ Bog?” he glanced at Bruce to see if Bruce knew the song but fortunately Bruce did. One good thing about cadging drinking in bars was that he’d been exposed to a great deal of music of all sorts. 

Jan started strumming and Bruce began to sing:  
“There was a bog; a rare bog; was a great bog; and a rattlin’ bog  
A bog down in the valley-o!”

The song was long, verse after verse being added somewhat like the farmer in the Dell, and Bruce messed up a few times, making the kids squeal with laughter. They were all in giggles by the end and Bruce thought of a few more songs suitable for children. They spent the next two hours sitting there, Janick had to leave a few times to take care of other guests’ needs, to refill the coffee vat or be sure the food warming plates were still operating, but by lights out every one of the seven adults in the shelter as well as the kids were gathered around listening to Bruce and Jan.

When Janick’s relief arrived they walked to the bus stop and Bruce noticed Jan looking over at him as he recounted his unsuccessful day seeking employment. It was dark and the streets were all but deserted so Bruce reached over, extracting Jan’s hand from his jacket pocket and holding it in his own.

“I’m getting discouraged, love. Realistically I know that this is going to take time but I’m not a patient person. I feel like I’m just sponging off you and I don’t like it.”

“I know how you feel and I know it won’t matter if I tell you I’m not worried about that. Bruce, have you ever thought of singing professionally?”

Bruce made a derisive sound. “No, that’s silly! I’m nowhere good enough for that and anyway I wouldn’t have any idea how to go about it.”

“You are good enough, take my word for it. And if you’re interested I may still have a few connections in the business.”

They climbed on the bus then, still holding hands and getting no odd looks. Times were changing even in isolated northeast towns such as this.

Bruce was still unwilling to take Janick’s suggestion seriously, “You mean you’ve kept in touch with people involved in the business? It’s been, what, two years since you were in a band?”

“Yeah, it will be two years ago the second week of March when the others moved down to London.” Bruce didn’t miss that Jan knew without even thinking practically to the day when Gerard had left. “The other guys in White Spirit replaced me and Gerard and stayed down there, I have no idea what became of them. But I wasn’t talking about them, I was talking about Johnny.”

“Johnny, your boss at the record store?” Bruce had heard Jan mention the man occasionally. 

“Johnny doesn’t just own this store, he owns five others all around the area and one of them has a small recording studio attached to it. That was where we recorded the demo that attracted the interest of the London companies. He’s kind of a buddy of mine, that’s why he gave me a job when I…. quit music.”

Bruce knew Jan had almost said ‘when I lost Gerard’ but he pushed that aside, focusing on what Jan was driving at. “You’re not suggesting that this guy would be willing to record a vocal demo of me, are you?”

They’d arrived at their stop now and climbed off, walking down the block to their building. “Why not?” Jan said reasonably. “At the very least let me have him listen to you.”

“I can’t afford to have a demo made.” Bruce shook his head, digging out his new door key and unlocking the flat.

“He won’t charge you. He didn’t charge us, he only asked for a percentage of any profits we make directly as a result of the demo for the first year. That’s the arrangement we had with him. We were never actually signed so he didn’t charge us anything. I offered to let him take the costs out of my wages but he refused, he’s more interested in giving new artists a break than he is in making money from it. He makes a good living from his stores.” The blonde produced two beers from the fridge and sat with Bruce on the couch, handing him one. “Just think about it, okay? Whatever you decide is all right with me.”

Bruce sipped his beer thoughtfully, then turned to face Jan. “I’ll agree to let you talk to the guy about it on one condition.” 

Jan gave him a curious look. “What?’

“That if I do a demo you’ll accompany me as my guitarist.”

Jan’s mouth opened as if he was going to refuse and Bruce unconsciously held his breath. He sensed that this was could be a touchy subject for Jan; that it would undoubtedly remind him of Gerard. After only a moment’s hesitation, though, Jan smiled. “If that what it will take, all right.” 

Bruce grinned and seized Jan by the shoulders, kissing him soundly. He was relieved that Jan had agreed so readily. Bruce had been observing musicians in pubs for years and he knew Jan had an exceptional talent but even more importantly, Jan loved to play. Bruce sometimes sat and watched him play as they sat at home, though he wasn’t obvious about it and Jan usually wasn’t aware of it. His face took on a quality of pure joy as he played, his eyes drifted closed and his head tilted to one side, he lost himself completely in the music and his fingers skimmed over the strings seemingly without any effort at all. The only other time Bruce would see that expression on his lovers face was when they were making love and he knew he would move mountains to keep that look on Jan’s face always. It was so much better than the uncertainty or the sadness that were sometimes reflected in his gray eyes, especially when something, even something insignificant, reminded him either of Gerard or of Bruce’s itinerant past.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Though the next day was Saturday, Jan phoned Johnny at the main branch of his music store chain in Newcastle, which was also the store with the attached music studio. He knew that unless Johnny had changed his habits, he often came in on Saturdays to do the book work and it seemed to still be the case as the owner himself answered the phone. Bruce only heard Jan’s side of the conversation as he gathered their laundry for their planned trip to the laundromat that afternoon. Though he knew Jan wouldn’t mind, he didn’t want it to appear that he was eavesdropping.

Jan hung up the phone with a satisfied smile. “Well, it’s on.”

“You made me sound like I’m one step short of Luciano Pavarotti, for God’s sake!” Bruce protested. 

Janick just shrugged “I call it as I see it, and anyway it worked. He wants to know if we can go up tomorrow, he’ll be fucking around in his studio like he does every Sunday and he wants to hear you.”

“Did you tell him I’m not singing a note unless you’re playing too?” Bruce hadn’t been able to make out the whole conversation and he was adamant on that point.

“No, but he won’t mind. I didn’t want to make it sound like it’s about me.” Jan was sitting on the sofa and Bruce crossed the room to sit next to him.

“It is about you as much as it is me. We’re a team, I’m not doing anything without you.” The sparkle in Jan’s eyes on hearing that was the most beautiful thing Bruce thought he had ever seen. “And just because you talked me into doing this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking for work!”

“I know, and I know this may come to nothing, but what’s the harm in trying?”

Bruce had to smile at his partners unfailing optimism and he reached out, pulling Jan against his chest as he sat back on the couch. Jan had a way of molding his body against him that drove Bruce wild, it was as though they were two interlocking pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

That afternoon the two men gathered their laundry, which was very little in Bruce’s case because he owned very little, and went to the laundromat a couple of blocks away. While their clothes were in the dryer they popped into the small grocer’s next door for some basics like bread, milk, and butter. They were at the cooler and Jan was reaching in for a gallon of milk when Bruce distinctly heard someone mention Jan’s name. There were several other shoppers present but in the reflection of the cooler doors Bruce saw two men in their mid-twenties standing a few feet behind them. He perked up his ears.

“…. looks like Janick’s found a new owner!” one guy said, his voice thick with derision.

“He had to sooner or later, didn’t he? He likes getting plowed too much to go without it for too long!” the other sneered. Then Bruce’s eyes met those of the first man in the reflection and the man snapped his mouth shut, nudging the other. The two of them hurried away but Bruce could hear them still chuckling.  
‘Shit!’, thought Bruce, hoping Janick hadn’t heard any of that. He looked at his partner and could tell immediately that Jan had heard, however. His face was a stoic mask, his lips compressed, but it was his eyes that tore at Bruce’s heart. The normally bright, lively gray orbs were dull and defeated. Every fiber of Bruce’s being wanted to go after those two arseholes and beat the living fuck out of them but he knew that would only make things worse. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, to say to Jan. Jan was already striding to the counter to pay for his purchases and Bruce followed, looking around out of the corner of his eyes to be sure the two jerks were nowhere around. He was glad to see that they weren’t, he knew that if he saw them again he wouldn’t be able to contain his temper. 

Jan was silent as they walked back to the laundromat and gathered their clothes, stuffing them into the linen laundry bag without bothering to fold them. Bruce wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him, he felt an overpowering need to do something, anything to take away the sting of the cruel words they’d overheard but they were in a public place and he was all too aware that if he displayed any public affection toward Jan it could fuel more comments of that kind.

Jan slung the laundry bag over his shoulder and strode off stiffly, leaving Bruce to grab the groceries and hurry to catch up with him. It didn’t take long to get back to their flat and as soon as they were inside Bruce knew he couldn’t pretend the incident in the store hadn’t happened. Jan tossed the laundry bag in a corner and when he turned back to the room he turned back straight into Bruce’s arms. He was tense and unyielding at first but Bruce reached up and softly brushed a lock of unruly hair back from his cheek. Jan was reluctant to meet his eyes so Bruce put both hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at him.

“I love you, Janick!” he said firmly, staring straight into the depths of Jan’s eyes. “No matter what anyone says, or does, or thinks, I love you!”

“You don’t know what some people around here think of me…” Jan’s voice was low and dull. “If you did…..”

Bruce leaned up and touched his lips lightly to Jan’s, “If I did it wouldn’t matter. Nothing is going to change how I feel about you!”

Jan’s eyes softened then, growing moist. “Gerard used to go out to the pubs and get drunk and…. and talk about me. Personal stuff, intimate stuff. Sometimes he exaggerated but…sometimes he didn’t have to. He called me his little whore and sometimes he used me like a whore.” a trace of a tear escaped and trickled down Jan’s cheek. Bruce gently swiped it away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry it was like that for you. You deserved better; you do deserve better.”

“I didn’t think I did, that’s why I put up with it for so long. And he could be nice, when he was sober everything was fine. We were best friends long before anything else happened between us. He was a good songwriter, a great drummer….”

“You don’t have to justify why you loved him, and you don’t have to feel bad about yourself over it. Things are what they are, there’s nothing we can do now to change the past. If we could I wouldn’t be such a loser.”

“You’re not a loser, Bruce!”

“Not anymore I’m not, because I have you!” Bruce kissed Jan again and this time Jan tentatively returned the kiss. 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Janick ordinarily spent Sundays with his mum, going over for dinner and to help her with things around the house, but when he called her to tell her he had to go up to Newcastle the next day she insisted he come over that night instead.

“All right. Umm…. Mum, would it be okay if I brought Bruce along?”

Bruce couldn’t hear the reply but it must have been affirmative because Jan broke into a smile. “Yeah, he’s staying with me now. Yeah…all right, see you later, then.’

“Does she know……” Bruce began, not sure how to ask. 

“That I’m gay? Yeah. I don’t like keeping secrets from her. You don’t have to come along tonight if you’d rather not.” he added, aware that Bruce might feel uncomfortable.

 

Bruce was considering saying no but then he remembered the warm, welcoming woman and how she’d been so gracious to him on Christmas “If you’re sure it’s all right…”

Jan laughed and reached over to hug Bruce. “Of course it is! You’re part of the family!” Bruce returned the hug, hit with a strange warmth inside. Family! It had been so long that Bruce almost forgot what it was like to be part of a family.

 

Mrs. Gers welcomed Bruce with an embrace, which he returned awkwardly. The evening was one of good wholesome food and an easy familiarity as Bruce helped Jan with a few basic household chores his mother asked him to perform. They cleaned the lint from her clothes dryer vent, changed the furnace filter, tightened a lose hinge in the kitchen, basic things that Louise protested that she could do herself but Jan wouldn’t hear of it.

 

On the bus back home Jan took Bruce’s hand “Mum likes you, she told me so tonight.”

“I hope she does, she’s a lovely lady.”

“She never liked Gerard and I know she was worried that I’d never find anyone who could make me happy. You make me happy, Bruce. Of course she likes you!”

Bruce wasn’t surprised to hear Louise hadn’t liked Gerard considering everything he’d heard about the late drummer. Once they were home Bruce watched Jan go about his nighttime routine of putting the dishes away and tidying up the already neat apartment and felt unreasoning anger toward the dead man, knowing he should be ashamed of himself for it but unable to help himself. When Jan emerged from the bathroom after brushing his teeth Bruce was waiting for him in bed and flipped the cover down for Jan to get under. Jan was wearing loose athletic pants and a tank and Bruce hooked his finger under the neck of the shirt.

“I don’t know why you come to bed with clothes on, you know they aren’t going to stay on for long!” 

Jan smiled, “Hmmm, maybe I like the anticipation of you taking them off me!” He snuggled into Bruce’s side and kissed his neck.   
“Come to think of it, so do I!” Bruce moved in to capture his lips in a long, deep kiss, hands slipping around him and pulling him tight against his chest. Their lips drew apart slowly, reluctantly, and Jan smiled as Bruce traced a fingertip along his jaw.

“How can you be so sweet and still be such an animal between the sheets?” 

Bruce laughed, “An animal, eh? Like this, you mean?” and he tumbled Jan over on his back, climbing across him and pressing one thigh against Janick’s quickly growing hardness. Jan responded instantly, his tongue invading Bruce’s mouth before their lips even connected, his hands already running across Bruce’s bare chest down to his stomach. Every morning Bruce felt that the sex between them couldn’t get any better than the night before only to be proved wrong that night. The connection was more than physical, even more than emotional; Bruce felt it on a level so deep he didn’t have a label for it. His body responded to Jan’s every move and Jan had a lot of moves. The blonde loved sex more than anyone Bruce had ever encountered, his passion escalated quickly even during the tender, leisurely sessions they sometimes indulged in. Bruce always responded in kind so that every time was different, more exciting than the last. It was only later, lying there with Jan nestled warm by his side sleeping with a faint smile still on his face, that unwelcome thoughts entered Bruce’s mind. Thoughts about what Cullen had said and what the guys in the grocery store had said. Jan’s love of sex seemed to be more common   
knowledge than Bruce could have wished, thanks to Gerard.

The bus ride to Newcastle the next day took less than an hour but once they arrived they had to walk half an hour to get to Johnny’s recording studio. Bruce didn’t know what to expect, he’s seen the outsides of recording studios occasionally in London but those were huge enterprises. He was pleasantly surprised when they arrived at a modern business block with a wide storefront displaying a variety of musical instruments. The store was closed on Sundays but Jan led Bruce to a small door between that building and the next and rang a buzzer. Two minutes later the door was flung open by a heavyset man in his forties with thick dark hair and a beard.

“Janick, you made it! Come in.” he gestured for them to enter the narrow but brightly lit hallway beyond the door. “And this must be Bruce.” Johnny shook Bruce’s hand and Bruce liked him immediately, some of his nervousness fading. The next half hour consisted of Johnny showing Bruce around and explaining in a very brief way how the various boards and electronics worked. It was small but the equipment looked to be quite sophisticated to Bruce’s untrained eye. Janick, having been there before when recording White Spirits demo, picked up one of several guitars that were sitting around on stands and began toying with it.

Johnny glanced over at him when he finished showing Bruce around. “You haven’t seen Jan performing in a live show, have you Bruce? Let me tell you, he’s spellbinding! The rest of white spirit were good but the band’s sound was centered around Jan’s guitar and he wrote most of the music they used.” He was still looking at Jan across the room. “I’ve been trying to convince him to play again, but…..”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, because the only way he convinced me to agree to come here today was to agree to play when I sing.”

Johnny turned back to Bruce, beaming. “Young man, I don’t know how you did it but that’s the best news I’ve heard all year! Now, let’s see what you two can do!”

The following two hours were exhilarating for both Bruce and Janick, though probably for different reasons. Bruce was beginning to understand that there was more to singing properly than just opening his mouth and belting out a song, there were subtly vocal nuances, ways to position his tongue and throat to ease the strain on the vocal cords, and even specifics involved with singing into a microphone as opposed to singing as he always had before. Johnny threw out occasional tips and advice as they ran through several songs after deciding on the genre Bruce felt most comfortable singing and it was just enough to stimulate Bruce’s interest in learning more. He was nervous at first but then Janick started to play along and Bruce was focused on him to the exclusion of everything else, his voice taking cues from the guitar almost instinctively as he watched Jan almost mesmerized by his lover’s abilities with the guitar. 

 

By the time they left the studio they had to hurry to make the last bus of the day going home, but Bruce’s mind was filled with the day’s events.  He felt as though a whole new world had been opened up for him, as cliché as that sounded. What’s more, Johnny had been visibly impressed. He told them he wanted to go over the tapes Bruce had made, improve the quality a little and determine where Bruce’s vocal strengths and weaknesses lay and he would call Jan in a few days.  Normally not an especially loquacious man Bruce couldn’t seem to stop chattering about things Johnny had said that had piqued his interest into wanting to develop his vocal abilities. It wasn’t until they were aboard the bus that Bruce noticed Janick looking at him with a bemused smile and broke off mid-sentence.

“I’m yammering on like an idiot, aren’t I?”  He laughed a little, “I’m sorry, it’s just all new to me.”

“Don’t apologize, I love seeing you so enthused.  And for what it’s worth, I think you sounded fantastic today and I think Johnny thought so too.”

Bruce was still a little abashed at how he had been going on.  “And I thought you were fantastic! I know you’re good but hearing you play there with all of that high-tech equipment…you blew me away, Jan.”  he leaned a little closer to Jan’s ear, lowering his voice, “And turned me on like crazy too!”

Jan burst into giggles, “I was just standing there playing!”  he protested.

Bruce shook his head, “You may have thought you were just standing there but you were moving constantly, twirling around, dancing and hopping about…..it was incredible to just watch you, I almost forgot to sing a few times!”  As he was talking his hand slid up from the seat between them to move along Jan’s jeans- clad thigh, loving the way Jan’s cheeks flushed and he got that unmistakable glint of arousal in his eyes. Encouraged, Bruce continued to let his fingers trail up and down the length of Jan’s leg and Jan made no move to stop him, only glancing around to be sure they weren’t being observed.

The bus was only partly full, most of the other passengers sitting toward the front whereas they sat at the back, and Bruce daringly let his fingertips creep up to stroke the bulge at Jan’s crotch.  He heard Jan’s breath quicken.

“Brucie, what are you doing?!  Not here!”

Bruce’s heart warmed, Jan had only recently begun to call him ‘Brucie’ and he loved it.  “Why not here? No one is around and I’ve been wanting to touch you all day!”

Jan’s only answer was an almost inaudible moan as Bruce’s fingers kept their light dance on him, feeling the response beneath the denim.  “I’ve been wanting to touch you too but…..oh, fuck!” Jan gasped because Bruce suddenly cupped his burgeoning erection and squeezed lightly.  Without intending to, Jan spread his legs a little wider and unconsciously pressed against Bruce’s palm.  “Damn it, Bruce…..,”

Bruce only smiled, not removing his hand and instead squeezed again, establishing a rhythm, kneading lightly as his thumb found the swollen head and stroked across it.

“Bruuccee….” Jan almost whined, leaning his head back and moving his hips restlessly. 

Bruce leaned close again, so close Jan’s hair was brushing his nose.  “If it was darker in here I’d get right down on the floor in front of you and lick you like a lollipop, I’d take you into my mouth as far as I could and not stop until I took everything you have to give!”

 

Jan’s only reply was a strangled sound as he tried not to groan out loud.  Looking around quickly and seeing no one nearby Bruce found Jan’s zipper and began to tug it down.

“Noooo…. come on, Bruce, you can’t…,”

“Oh yes I can!”  Bruce chuckled, his voice full of naughty promises, and Jan didn’t try to stop him as he continued to pull at the zipper, though he made another half-hearted protest.  Bruce dipped his fingers inside and extracted Jan who was so hard he must have been strangled by the tight jeans. At the sight of Jan’s excitement Bruce felt the blood flood to his own loins and his mouth literally watered.  He rolled the foreskin back, seeing the moisture already glistening at the tip, and began to stroke.

Jan squeezed his eyes shut and his throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously but he laid his head back, his breathing quickening and he tried to keep his hips from thrusting into Bruce’s grasp.  Bruce stopped momentarily only to thrust two fingers further into Jan’s open jeans and stroke his balls, returning to continue what he had been doing, his thumb occasionally passing over the head to spread the increasing amounts of pre-come along the shaft. 

“Bruce…,” Jan gulped, “you have to stop, I’m going to….”

With a quick last look around, Bruce dipped his head down and closed his lips over the end just as Jan shuddered and reached his climax, his entire body shaking with the effort to remain as quiet and still as possible.

“OH GOD, OH God, oh God…., “Jan muttered, unable to keep his hips from jerking as he rode out the aftershocks before slumping back in the seat, spent. Bruce kept holding him, still stroking lightly until Jan’s body stopped quivering, then he gently tucked him back in his jeans.  Jan’s eyes opened, looking over at Bruce with a somewhat glazed look.

“Oooh, I’m going to make you pay for that!” he smiled, his hand running up Bruce’s thigh. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?”  Bruce smirked as Jan zipped up and straightened his clothing.  As they exited the bus Jan gave Bruce a sneaky pinch on the arse, he was still aroused form what they’d done on the bus and he growled low in his throat, quickening his steps as they headed home. He didn’t even wait until they were in their apartment, as soon as they entered the enclosed stairway leading upstairs Bruce seized Jan, pulling him around and flattening him to the wall with a searing kiss, his tongue invading Jan’s mouth and clutching his arse to pull him tight to his groin.

“I’ve got to have you, I can’t wait another second!” he moaned against the taller man’s mouth even as he felt Jan’s hand cupping his crotch. Bruce was crazed, the taste he had of Jan on the bus only whetted his appetite and he was moving against the other man, slowly, sensuously grinding his groin against the hardness that Jan was once again displaying. Jan let his head fall back against the wall as Bruce kissed and nipped at his throat. Bruce could feel Jan opening his jeans and drawing him out, then Jan dropped to his knees unexpectedly, finding Bruce and engulfing him in one swoop almost all the way to the back of this throat.

Bruce groaned out loud, leaning against the wall above Jan’s head with shaking arms and he looked down at the top of Jan’s head in the dim light. Jan was voracious, working with his hand as well as his mouth, his tongue in constant motion as he bobbed his head. Jan looked up then through his disheveled hair, meeting Bruce’s eyes without letting go.

“I’m…. not going to last…” Bruce gasped. He could already feel the pressure building up even though it had only been a few minutes. He had been ready for this ever since watching Jan play at the studio. 

At Bruce’s words Jan suddenly let go and stood, hurriedly undoing his own pants and, to Bruce’s dazed amazement, turning to face the wall, pressing the perfect globes of his arse against Bruce’s erection. 

“Do it, Bruce!” Jan whispered, his voice almost frantic with need, “I want you now, do it!”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Bruce positioned himself and began to enter Jan slowly but Jan pushed back, meeting him until they were fully joined. Bruce held still for a bit, though he wanted to drive himself deeper into the warm, willing body in front of him, then he snaked a hand around Jan, grasping him and stoking him as he started to move. The urgency soon built and overtook them both, gasps and moans filled the narrow stairwell and leaned to kiss and run his teeth along Jan’s still-clothed shoulder. Jan’s response was downright pornographic, he threw his head back, his hair cascading across Bruce’s face, and matched Bruce thrust for thrust, the sounds he was emitting went straight to Bruce’s groin and he felt the elusive orgasm building once more only this time there was no stopping it. His hand left Jan’s erection to be immediately replaced by Jan’s own hand and he grasped the slim hips, the force growing stronger and more imminent until with a harsh, choked sound he went over the top, falling into a shower of sparks that flashed blindingly, gradually fading out as the surroundings came back into focus. Jan came as well and was leaning heavily against the hall with his head resting on his forearm, small spasms still running through his body.

Bruce wrapped his arms around the wilted form and peppered his neck and jaw with kisses. After a moment Jan moved away from the wall with an effort, then glanced down and giggled.

“I’m going to have to come back down here and clean that wall!”

Both of them broke into simultaneous gales of laughter and ascended the stairs to the single door at the top.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

The next morning Jan had to go back to work. He worked from when the music store opened at ten until five in the evening and before meeting Bruce he generally went straight from work to the shelter on the days when he volunteered. Now, though, Bruce was aware of Jan looking across the table at him as they ate a light breakfast.

“You don’t look very eager to get back to work.” Bruce observed, sipping his coffee. 

“I am, I guess. I enjoy working there and the manager doesn’t mind if I play the guitars on display if it isn’t busy. I got spoiled over this past week, though. We were able to spend a lot of time together and I’ll miss that.”

Bruce smiled. “I will, too. I’m going to take the bus to the city center, I think, and put in some job applications down there. I’ll come by the shelter this evening to see you, okay?”

“You had better!” Jan grinned. “You know you can come by the store any time you’re in that part of town, too. It won’t be busy now that the Christmas season is over and Mitch won’t mind.” Mitch was the store manager.

“I don’t want to be one of those blokes who just hangs around pestering people while they’re at work.” Seeing that Jan was about to protest he amended his words, “but if I’m in that area I’ll pop in, okay?”

After Jan left to catch the bus to work Bruce realized it was the first time he’d been in the flat alone. He gave it a cursory cleaning, washing the few dishes they’d used and generally straightening up. He even made the bed, smiling to himself as he caught the scent of Jan’s shampoo on the linens. The laundry from Saturday’s trip to the laundromat sat folded on the straight back chair in the corner of the bedroom so Bruce went to put it away. He only had one change of clothes himself and a few pair of socks so he left them sitting on the chair and started putting away Jan’s things, pairing up the socks and rolling them together. He wasn’t sure which drawer Jan kept his socks in so he opened the top drawer, finding nothing there but a collection of miscellaneous; a hairbrush, a spare toothbrush, an unopened package of razors and other such things. He went to close the drawer when he noticed a small framed photo lying toward the back. Bruce was curious if perhaps it was a childhood photo of Jan or perhaps a photo of his late father so he picked it up.

It wasn’t. It was a photo of Jan standing with four other young men next to a large van with a bird-like logo on the side that Bruce couldn’t quite make out, but he guessed that this was Jan’s old band, White Spirit. Jan was a few years younger, his hair a little darker and not quite as long, but it was the man standing next to him that drew Bruce’s attention. He was shorter than Jan and so blonde his hair looked almost white, he had frail features and seemed to be scowling at the camera, and he had his hand on Jan’s shoulder. Bruce somehow knew that this was Gerard and with that realization came a pang of jealousy so sharp it took him completely by surprise.

He replaced the photo and slammed the drawer closed. What was the matter with him, being jealous of a dead man?! Seeing the photo brought back his fears that Jan was still haunted by his tumultuous relationship with Gerard. Jan wasn’t the only one, Bruce reflected. He, too, was haunted by a man he never knew.

Bruce’s melancholy mood stayed with him through the day as he endured the bus ride to the main commerce area of the city and started the onerous task of going from business to business asking to put in a job application. It was a test for his limited patience as many places cut him off before he even finished asking, telling him curtly they were not hiring at this time. He tried every sort of business that didn’t require special training, mostly retail and service type jobs, but by late afternoon even his iron endurance was flagging. He popped into supermarket he chanced to pass, thinking to buy an energy drink, though his conscience nagged him over spending even that small amount of money. He had been getting by on a few dollars he had always kept tucked away in an inside pocket of his backpack but by now he was down to his last few quid. Though he knew Jan would be happy to give him bus fare and enough money to buy a bite to eat on his job searches he was determined not to let it get to that point. Not even thinking about job seeking now as it was late in the day, he almost missed the small notice on the bulletin board by the door as he left the store. Warehouse worker needed. Alright, why not? Ten minutes later he’d put in the application and left, thinking no more of it.

That evening Bruce sang for the two children who’d turned up at the shelter but he couldn’t look away as Jan strummed his guitar. Something about the way Jan’s long, slim fingers glided across the strings and up the frets was so engrossing he found himself messing up the lyrics to the simple, kid-friendly songs but luckily the kids were so little they didn’t notice the difference or simply didn’t care. Watching Jan play was all it took to turn Bruce’s sour mood to bright and he even managed to forget the image from the photograph that had been lurking in the back of his mind all day.

The next morning as he and Jan were sitting over coffee the phone rang. Jan answered, listened, then handed him the phone. Bruce got the warehouse job. He hung up, turning to find Jan beaming at him.

“It was a job, wasn’t it?”

Bruce nodded, laughing, and Jan scooted across the couch to crush him with a hug. 

“I knew you’d get one, Bruce! When do you start?”

“Tomorrow morning at 7:00. I’m not used to getting up that early!”

“I’ll make sure you get up! I’m sure I can find some interesting ways to wake you!”

Bruce laughed, “I’m sure you can, but if you do I may never make it to work!” he sobered, looking at Jan. “This is it for me, you know. The big test. This is what will decide whether I can actually work a regular job and live like a regular person.”

“You can do anything if you really want to, Bruce.” Jan leaned in to brush his lips with a soft kiss.

“I do want to.” Bruce smiled into the gray eyes so close to his own. 

Janick made certain Bruce was in bed by a decent hour but after he slid in next to him Bruce found that sleeping was the last thing on his mind. The feeling of Jan’s warm body so close, the scent of him and his quiet voice as they talked together all combined to make him almost giddy with desire and they made love long into the night, Bruce sleeping soundly afterwards until Jan’s alarm clock jangled him awake before it was fully light outside.

The job was in a large warehouse distributing goods to the region’s stores, located in an industrial complex a half hour’s bus ride from their flat. It was purely manual labor, sorting boxes and stacking them on pallet jacks and hauling them to a loading bay where they were loaded by forklift onto trucks. There were three other men in his section who greeted him amiably, his supervisor was an older woman with a brisk, businesslike manner, and Bruce didn’t find it as mind-numbingly tedious as he expected. Though his position was entry-level unskilled labor but it paid reasonably well and if he stayed with it there was potential for advancement.

The best part, though, was coming home to Jan. The music store was closer to home so though Bruce got out of work first Jan was home by the time he got there and was busy in the tiny kitchen area. He turned as Bruce entered and greeted him with what started as a light kiss but became more torrid as Bruce deepened it.

“Wow, what brought that on?” He laughed when Bruce released him.

“I missed you.” Bruce said simply, looking at what Jan had been working on. “What are you cooking?”

“A celebratory dinner. Steak and salad. Turns out we have more to celebrate than just your new job.”

“What, are you pregnant?” Bruce teased, causing Jan to break into giggles.

“No, silly!” Jan slapped at him with a dishtowel, “Johnny called me at the store today. He finished mixing the tracks we did on Sunday and he was really enthusiastic about your voice. He wants to know if we can run up there again next weekend to talk with him. I think he’s going to offer to record a demo for you.”

“For us,” Bruce corrected with a grin, “don’t forget, he already likes your playing, my voice is just an extra.”

“All right,” Jan shook his head, grinning, “for us, then. You don’t work weekends, do you?”

“No, not unless they give me a full-time position later on.”

 

Jan grinned, “You already have a full-time position, right between my legs!”

Bruce was taking a sip of beer and almost spit it out. “God, man, don’t say things like that or we’ll end up skipping dinner altogether!” 

Jan was still laughing as they sat down to eat. Janick was a surprisingly good cook considering it was just basic food cooked in a tiny kitchen and Bruce was impressed after his very first bite.

“Hey, this is great! I might just keep you around after all!”

He was joking, not thinking about what he was saying and he wasn’t prepared for the way Jan’s smile faded. He realized immediately what he’d done. “Hey, you know I’m just joking, right?”

“Joking about what, about keeping me around? I suppose that is pretty funny.” Jan replied, his voice low and his eyes downcast, playing with his food but not eating it.

Bruce got up and went around the table, kneeling by Jan’s chair and looking up at him. The blonde avoided his gaze until Bruce reached up and touched his cheek.

“Jan, I want to be with you no matter what, you must know that by now! I’m the one who’s lucky you keep me around!”

Jan finally looked at him but his eyes were still listless, without their usual spark. It was a look Bruce saw there from time to time and it bothered him, though he didn’t know how to remedy it. Jan was gorgeous, talented, and sexy as hell but he didn’t realize it, he still thought of himself as the gangly kid who let his boyfriend walk all over him.

Bruce got up on his knees so he was eye to eye with Jan and he cupped the man’s face in both hands. “I love you, Janick Gers. Sometimes it feels like you don’t believe me when I say that, but I do. I love you more than I ever thought possible!”

Jan smiled a little then. “I do believe you! At least, most of the time I do, I just get afraid sometimes. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, sometimes it seems too good to be true.”

“You think I don’t feel the same way?! Come on, love, lets finish our dinner and go to bed early, hmm?”

When the two of them went to bed Bruce felt an overriding urge to pamper Jan, he wanted to somehow convince him of how much he meant to him but he didn’t have the words to express it. So he let actions speak for him, insisting that Jan lay back and let him lavish his body with attention, pushing Jan’s hands back down when they reached for him. Bruce found he enjoyed this almost as much as Jan, he explored every inch of smooth, creamy flesh slowly and adoringly until Jan was a squirming, moaning mess beneath him. He couldn’t bear it anymore and raised up to kiss Jan deeply as they joined as one. Later as they lay entwined and basking in the afterglow Bruce’s tongue was loosened and he found himself whispering words of devotion into the blonde’s ear, words he would never have believed he would ever utter to express feelings he never would have believed he could feel. Jan drifted off into an easy slumber, curled tightly to Bruce’s side but Bruce lay there for quite some time gently stroking the silky blonde hair and luxuriating in the tenderness that filled his heart whenever he as much as thought about Jan.

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Bruce found it easier to work a regular job than he expected, though he was glad they were starting him out at only four days a week. Though he'd held a number of jobs over the years, this was the first he had any intention of keeping. There were three others doing the same job so it wasn't outrageously hectic. They had a half hour unpaid lunch and two fifteen-minute breaks in a chilly, barren break room lined with vending machines and by the third day Bruce was so bored he overcame his usual detached nature and began talking to the other employees. It was awkward at first, they were locals and he was still a stranger in the area, but they were outgoing and friendly and didn't seem to think it odd that he never said much about his own background. The more outgoing one was a cherub-faced blonde with vivid blue eyes named Dave. Dave's constant companion was a more reserved guy that people simply called H but once Dave opened a conversation with Bruce, H joined in.

On Friday during their last break of the day Bruce entered to break room to find H and Dave already engaged in conversation. He went to the machine to buy a bag of crisps and heard them mention something that made his ears perk up. 

“…. not like a couple of years ago when you could catch White Spirit’s show and know you were going to hear some good music. There just aren’t any decent bands around here anymore.” H was saying.

“True but that doesn’t mean we would be any good. We could never be as good as White Spirit. Damn shame they broke up.” Dave replied, regret in his voice.

They were talking about Jan’s old band! Bruce got his crisps but lingered at the machine, curious to hear more. It sounded as though H and Dave were thinking of starting a band but that didn’t particularly interest him at the moment because H spoke again.

“Hell, they were on the verge of getting a recording contract. They wouldn’t broke up have if Gerard Graham hadn’t got killed!” H sounded angry about it, and his anger was directed at the dead man. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t trying the same shit in London that he was doing around here and pissed off the wrong people!” 

That piqued Bruce’s interest. What had Gerard been doing that would get him killed? Thinking the two men might stop talking if they realized he was listening, Bruce took his snack and sat at one of the long tables, but he remained close enough to overhear them. So far they were so engrossed in their conversation that hadn’t paid him any mind.

“Yeah, it’s one thing to sell drugs up here but if he tried that in London it’s no wonder he got in trouble! I heard he was using, too, before he died. No one was really surprised he came to a bad end. Well, maybe the other band members but they  
probably didn’t know half of what Gerard was involved in.”

Bruce felt his stomach tighten. He suppressed an urge to say something, he wanted to hear more about Gerard. If Gerard had been selling drugs Bruce had no doubt that Jan knew nothing of it. Jan’s feelings were already so confused over his former lover’s death Bruce found himself hoping he never found out. Evidently Gerard not only bought into the dream of easy money, he also decided to sample the goods. He almost felt sorry for him, he knew only too well how easy it was to succumb to allure of the big money drugs would bring in. Bruce had seen it happen all around him and he had also seen small time dealers get killed or go missing if they inadvertently encroached on a gang’s territory. He recalled the murder he’d witnessed in an alley some time back; he had no doubt that it had been drug-related. He was sure that this is exactly what happened to Gerard and that his death had never been properly investigated. Just another junkie stabbed in the street, a random crime, not worth the police spending time on.

Lost in thought he almost didn’t hear what Dave was saying next. “Remember White Spirit’s guitarist, Janick? People used to say he was Gerard’s boyfriend. I remember Janick from school, he was a couple of years behind me. Really nice bloke, and a brilliant guitarist. He took it really hard when Gerard got killed, I heard. He quit playing guitar, I don’t know what he’s doing now.”

“I don’t remember him from school but I remember him from the band, prancing and twirling all over the stage. He put on a hell of a show!” H said, draining his coke. He seemed to notice Bruce for the first time.

“Hey, Bruce. I didn’t see you come in.” They went on then to talk about more mundane things and soon break was over. Since Bruce didn't work Fridays he picked up his first paycheck before leaving that night and cashed it on the way to the bus stop. It wasn’t much but the money felt good in his pocket and when he got off the bus at the end of his block he darted into a grocer to buy a bottle of wine.

Jan was already home and chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter when Bruce came in. He immediately put down the knife and came over, catching Bruce in a tight hug.

“Mmm…. it smells good in here,” Bruce said, putting the wine on the counter. “Whatever you’re cooking, I hope it goes with this wine.”

Jan grinned,. “It’s spaghetti. I was going to make my own sauce, I even called my Mum to ask her how, but it would have taken too long. I am putting extra vegetables in the store-bought sauce, though”

Bruce didn’t want to remove his arms from around Jan. “And do I get to have you for dessert?”

“You can have me for anything you want!” Jan breathed teasingly in his ear, then drew away laughing when he heard Bruce’s breath catch. This was the tone of most of their evenings; lighthearted, teasing and flirtatious, and Bruce loved it. The haunted look he sometimes caught in Jan's eyes was absent during these times and as the evening progressed the flirting and sexual innuendoes became more direct and more serious until they were necking on the couch by nine and in bed by ten. Being in bed by no means meant that they were asleep before midnight or one, however.

Jan had to work the next day but Bruce didn’t so he spent the day going over which songs he knew and which he felt would give an idea of his range and style. The songs he knew best were classic rock or hard rock songs because he used to frequent those types of bars and clubs when he sang for drinks and money, though when busking in the street he sang what was requested of him. After writing them down he was somewhat surprised at how many he actually knew by heart. The whole idea of developing his voice and extending his range fascinated him and since the previous weekend he had been trying to learn more about it. Jan had an old notebook computer and though they didn’t have Internet service sometimes they could tap into the Wi-Fi from one of the nearby businesses and Bruce took advantage of it to learn a bit more about singing. 

After doing that for a few hours he ventured out and used a bit of his paycheck to buy some much-needed clothes. He had been able to borrow Jan’s shirts, though they were tight on him, but there was no way he could wear Jan’s jeans. Fortunately there was a thrift store a few blocks from the apartment selling quality used clothing and he was able to find several items there without spending a great deal of money. He knew he would have to talk to Jan about contributing to household expenses and he knew Jan would try to insist on only the barest minimum but he was determined to put in his fair share.

It was Jan’s night at the shelter but he popped home first and ended up being almost late because as soon as he walked in Bruce swept him off to the bedroom. Sometimes Bruce felt like even a few hours without Jan was too long. He was so willing and eager that Bruce’s first touch always seemed to ignite him and even quick romps such as this were incredibly passionate.

They again took the bus to Newcastle on Saturday morning and Johnny left the door unlocked for them this time so they simply let themselves into the small studio. Johnny was in the sound booth adjusting some settings on the board but when he saw them enter he came out and greeted them, asking them to sit at one of the couches that lined the walls.

“Okay, boys, I’m going to lay it out for you.” He pulled up a chair facing them. “I want to back you guys. I think together you’re well worth investing my time into and I’m interested in putting together a demo for you. You can use it any way you please once it’s finished, the only stipulation is that for the first year I’m to get 5% of any profits. That includes any gigs, recordings, anything you get paid for, just to cover the costs of using the studio. After that you’re free and clear of any obligations to me. I have a legal contract drawn up that you can go over and if you’re interested in doing this we can do it today.”

“What if we don’t earn anything for the next year?” Bruce asked.

“Then I don’t get anything. But you wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t have any intention of pursuing a professional music career, am I right?”

Jan spoke up. “I think I still have enough contacts to line up a few gigs but there are only the two of us so it won’t be much, probably only small acoustic gigs.”

“You guys can try to locate some musicians. My contract only covers what you two earn, any band members that join you are under no obligation to me whatsoever. I’m bringing in some guys today to do this demo that work with me locally. One of them is actually from your old band, Jan, Mal Pierce. He moved back up here last year, he’s married with a baby on the way now and has a job at an electronics plant but he gives piano lessons at the shop on weekends for extra cash. The other guy is someone he knows from his regular job who plays drums.”

Johnny went on talking but Bruce was distracted. At the mere mention of this Pierce bloke’s name Jan visibly started and his expression froze. Bruce put up a hand to interrupt Johnny.

“Can we have a few minutes alone to talk this over?”

“Oh sure, no problem. I was going to run to the Starbucks for some coffee anyway. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Bruce waited until he was out of the room then turned to Jan, laying a hand on his knee. “Listen, we don’t have to do this, you know. And if we do it, we don’t have to work with this Pierce guy, we can insist he get someone else.”

Jan looked at Bruce, “Why do you think we wouldn’t want to work with Mally?”

“I saw your face when you heard his name. It upset you, I can tell.”

Jan didn’t deny it “I wasn’t expecting it, is all. As far as I knew everyone from the band stayed in London, I lost touch with all of them. Mal was a good mate and he can play several instruments, we’d be crazy not to use him.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he can play, I’m not going to let anything upset you.”

“Bruce, I told you I’m not a child! It will feel a little weird working with Mal but it won’t upset me.”

Bruce took a deep breath, aware that he was coming close to stifling Jan with his possessiveness. “All right, we’ll tell Johnny to go ahead then.”

Jan smiled and briefly covered Bruce’s hand with his own. “Good!”

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Janick told Bruce he would be fine seeing Mally but inwardly he wasn’t so sure. Johnny got on the phone as soon as he came back with some coffee for all of them to call Mal and his mate and he and Bruce started running through the list of Bruce’s repertoire while they waited for them to arrive. They signed the contract, it was virtually identical to the one he’d signed when White Spirit recorded their demo there. He wasn’t giving their discussion his full attention, his thoughts kept turning back to when he’d last seen Mally. 

There had been a huge party at the old garage they used for rehearsals after their last local gig together before the rest of the band headed to London and at least forty or fifty people were present. Jan remembered he was feeling down, feeling like he was being foolish for wanting to finish his classes and feeling guilty for not quitting college and going to London with them. He’d been well on his way to getting drunk, there was every type of alcohol imaginable present, and the more he’d had to drink the worse he felt about his decision. What upset him the most, however, had been Gerard’s reaction when he told him he was staying in school. Gerard had merely shrugged, like it was no big deal. Like he didn’t care that his boyfriend of six years was going to be apart from him for the next three months. They had been drifting apart, true, but as far as Jan was concerned they were still in a long-term relationship, still abiding by a commitment they had made to one another when they were still in school. He remembered cornering Gerard and pulling him away from a group of people he had been talking to.

“I need to talk to you.” he’d said.

“Can’t it wait?” Gerard, too, was quite drunk and he didn’t hold his alcohol as well as Jan.

“Wait till when?!” Jan was exasperated. The band were driving down to London the next day.

Gerard had sighed with exaggerated patience “Listen, Jan, I told you it will be all right, we’ll just do a few small gigs around the city until you get there. No big deal.”

“It’s not that!” Jan felt his hurt and anger start to surface. “I’m not talking about the band, I’m talking about us.! You and me!”

“What about us?” Gerard’s eyes were already drifting away back to the people he’d been talking with. They were strangers, Jan didn’t know them and had no idea how they ended up at the party. One of them was looking at Gerard speculatively and Jan knew that look, it was the look of a sexual prowler. The guy wanted to fuck Gerard and from past experience Jan knew he probably would. He felt tears prick at his eyes.

“Are we going to spend tonight together? It’s our last night, Gerard!” he asked, keeping his voice low even though it was so loud in the room he wouldn’t have been heard anyway. He was ashamed of the pleading note in his voice but it was there and he knew Gerard recognized it.

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know, I sort of told those guys I’d go back and party at their place after it breaks up here.”

That was the last straw. Between his anxiety over not going with the band and his being upset about not seeing Gerard for three months the realization that they probably wouldn’t even have this one last night together was too much for Jan and he felt a tear escape.

“Gerard, come on….,”

Gerard interrupted him, “Jan, don’t beg, I hate it when you beg for sex!”

“I’m not begging for sex, goddamn it!” his voice was a little louder than he intended and a few people nearby looked their way. “I’m reminding you that we won’t see each other for a while! I’m going to …to stay faithful to you, Gerard. Are you going to be down there in the city fooling around on me?” he believed he already knew the answer but he wanted to get it out in the open.

Gerard compressed his lips, looking at Jan, “Listen, Jan, you know we’re together, we’re a couple. What more do you need to know?”

“I need to know…. I need to know if you still love me!” Jan was crying openly now and keeping his voice steady with an effort.

Gerard sighed again and shifted restlessly on his feet, “Why are you asking these stupid questions now? We’re here to have fun! Our band is going places, Jan! We’ll be making a record this summer! A record! It’s what we always dreamed of! It will mean bigger gigs, festivals, maybe a tour…. don’t spoil tonight by going all melodramatic on me!”

Jan was acutely aware that Gerard hadn’t answered his question, he hadn’t said what Jan a burning need had to hear. He hadn’t told him he loved him, he hadn’t promised to be faithful, he hadn’t even promised to phone Jan every day. Afraid he was going to break down completely Jan had turned abruptly and walked away, going outside into the cold air to try to compose himself. There had been a handful of others outside either smoking weed or necking in the dark and Jan walked away to a nearby tree, leaning his head against it and letting himself cry. Sure, he’d always dreamed of the band being a success but in every dream he ever had, Gerard was by his side! Now even when Gerard was physically with him he wasn’t with him mentally or emotionally and it hurt, it hurt a lot.

Jan was standing there trying not to sob out loud when a voice startled him.

“Jan? You okay, mate?”

He looked up. It was Mally, their keyboardist. He’d known Mally as long as he’d known Gerard, they had gone to school together and Mally had joined the band only a few months after it was started. Mal was an affable guy, upbeat and optimistic but there was concern in his voice now. Jan wiped his hand across his wet face and tried to keep the quaver from his voice.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Mally wasn’t buying it. He stepped nearer. “Listen, it’s none of my business but I saw you arguing with Gerard and I know…well I know you two are going through a rough patch. Just remember that’s how he is, he isn’t trying to hurt you, you know.”

“Oh, isn’t he?!” Jan heard the bitterness and hostility in his own voice and it surprised him.

“You know as well as I do how he gets caught up in anything new but he’s always come back to you, hasn’t he? He will this time too.”

Jan was grateful to Mal for trying to comfort him. Everyone in the band knew about his and Gerard’s relationship, though they tried to keep it from everyone else, and of them all Mal was the most accepting of it. But he felt that no one or nothing could comfort him at that moment and after a while Mal went back inside. Eventually Jan did too but Gerard was nowhere around. He’d left with the strangers he’d been talking to earlier. The band left for London the next day and that was the last time Jan saw him alive.

Jan snapped out of his reverie when he became aware that Bruce had asked him something. He looked over and saw concern in Bruce’s warm amber eyes. 

“What did you say?”

“I asked if you prefer playing Rainbow in the Dark or Holy Diver.”

“Oh, Umm, I don’t care. I know them both.”

“I know you know them but I can’t decide which to record. What do you think?”

Jan had to smile. Bruce knew him so well even after such a short time and he knew he had guessed Jan had been thinking of the past, of when he had been in this studio before and when he had last seen Mally. “I think either would be great but if I had to choose I’d say Rainbow suits your voice best.”

Bruce turned back to Johnny. “Let’s put down Rainbow in the Dark as the last song, then.”

Just then they heard the door open and two men entered, a shorter brunette with wavy brown hair and a taller blonde. The brunette immediately broke into a grin upon seeing Jan.

“Jan! It’s been too long mate, how are you!?” He came across the room and when Jan stood the man clasped him in a brief hug. To Bruce’s relief he saw Jan’s features relax and he gave the other man a hesitant pat on the back.

“Good to see you, Mal. This is Bruce,” Jan smiled reassuringly at Bruce, wanting him to know he was okay with Mally being there.

Bruce stood as well and Mally clasped his hand, still smiling. “Bruce, glad to meet you!. Johnny said you have a great voice, I’m anxious to hear you! This is Nicko, we work together at the plant but he used to drum for a band in Birmingham, and he’s good!” 

Nicko shook everyone’s hand and the four of them ran through the songs Bruce had chosen several times until they felt they’d gotten the feel of playing together. They soon learned that Nicko was one of those types who made wisecracks about almost anything but when he sat down behind the drum set he transformed from a jokester to a professional musician almost as if by magic. Bruce saw Jan watching him play and he remembered that Gerard had been a drummer. He had a momentary worry that playing with another drummer would sadden Jan but after they ran through a few songs he was relieved to see that Jan seemed focused only on the music. 

Once again Bruce found himself constantly looking across at Jan as he played throughout the day. The phrase ‘born musician’ came to his mind and if it ever applied to anyone, it applied to Janick. As soon as he struck the first chord he was transported to a place where only he and his guitar existed, the music seemed to flow through his body and he moved with it, dancing and swaying and moving in a way that made Bruce’s mouth dry with desire. He had to make a conscious effort not to become visibly aroused and the only way he was able to accomplish that was to channel all the sexual energy that Jan stirred up in him into his vocals. Even so he found himself wondering if he could refrain from repeating their previous week’s activities on the bus when it was time to go home.

 

As it turned out, he didn’t have the opportunity to find out that evening. Because the four of them were still getting accustomed both to playing together and with the material, they weren’t able to finish that day. Since Mal and Nicko both lived in Newcastle it would be no problem for them to simply return the next day, in fact it was a bonus as they would be getting paid for two days work rather than one. 

Bruce and Jan were an hour away from home, however, so Johnny offered to put them up in a hotel in town. Bruce protested at first, he was already a little concerned over being indebted to Johnny and somehow being unable to give him a return on his investment, but he gave in once it was explained to him that this was the only practical thing to do. He expected they would be put into a low budget motel but instead Johnny brought them to a Radisson across the river, not exactly luxurious but considerably nicer than any hotel Bruce had ever stayed in before. He dropped them off and asked that they be at the studio at ten Sunday morning, saying they should be able to wrap things up within a few hours.

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

The hotel room Johnny booked them in had two beds though they would naturally only be using one and Bruce threw his backpack on the other bed, looking at Jan who had sat down on the bed they would be using.

“He could have put us in a less expensive place.” he commented. 

“You’ll have to get used to this once you make it big, Bruce.” Jan sat back on the bed on his elbows, smiling up at him.

“What did I tell you that,” Bruce said in a mock-stern voice. “I am not going to make it big, we are!”

Jan laughed and reached up to pull Bruce down next to him. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even be here!” He moved close to Bruce and wrapped his arms around him. “I never imagined I’d want to play professionally again but here I am, cutting a demo and actually feeling excited about it!”

Bruce placed a soft kiss on Jan’s lips, “I’m feeling excited about it too, but right now I’m feeling excited about you!” he kissed Jan again but then pulled back. “You seem to be working all right with Mally.”

 

“Bruce, it’s sweet that you’re so protective of me and everything but I’m perfectly all right! Mal was a good mate and he’s a good musician. So stop worrying, I’m not as fragile as you seem to think I am!”

Bruce felt contrite, “I know, I know and I’m sorry but I can’t help it. You’re the first person I’ve cared about in longer than I can remember and I feel like I’ve got to take care of you!”

 

Jan laughed softly and nestled into Bruce’s embrace, “I’m not a child! I’m older than you are, remember?”

Bruce felt the warmth of Jan’s breath through the thin tee shirt he wore and was conscious of Jan’s leg draped across his own. He rolled over Jan, looking down at him. “No you definitely aren’t a child.” He slipped his leg between Jan’s and applied light pressure, feeling Jan respond instantly. “You are very obviously a man!” He dipped his head to meet Jan’s kiss, his tongue meeting Jan’s and he felt himself get carried away with desire for the man beneath him. “I was able to control myself while you were playing your guitar today by trying not to look at you but I couldn’t help myself, I had to look over there and when I did I would see you moving the way you do when you play….. you are so fucking sexy! And you’re mine!”

“Mmm…. I am yours, Brucie, and I want you to tell me what you were thinking about when you were watching me play!”

“I was thinking about having you right where I’ve got you now, where I could kiss you and feel you hard against me…” he caught Jan in another kiss, this one deepening and lasting much longer as he began to work at the clasp of Jan’s jeans. “Thinking about this,” he slid his hand between them to cup Jan’s groin, earning a gasp from the other man, “thinking about how good you taste,” he slid his hand inside the open zipper and lightly grasped the hardness he found, feeling the telltale drop of moisture. It was impossible for him to continue talking then, he slid down and extracted Jan from the underwear and jeans, immediately covering him with his mouth. 

Jan inched his tight jeans down his hips and Bruce moved away just long enough for him to kick them off then he was back, taking Jan in as deeply as he could. Jan lay his head back and emitted a long, tortured moan, his fingers in Bruce’s long brown hair.

“Bruce…Brucie, get naked! Get naked and move around here so I can taste you too!”

The sound of those words made Bruce’s balls tighten and he hummed around Jan, then let go to comply with the request. Their relationship was so new that they hadn’t tried this before and Bruce wondered fleetingly how many other things they hadn’t done yet that they could explore together. Then he was no longer able to form a coherent thought as he felt Jan’s tongue on him and his hands cupping his ass. They didn’t hurry, they explored each other almost languidly, kissing and licking between intervals of more intense action and Bruce had a sudden thought flash through his mind.

“Jan…. Janick, wait, stop.”

Jan didn’t respond right away, he was totally immersed in what he was doing and only reluctantly let go with a slow motion that nearly made Bruce lose control.

“What…why are we stopping?” he was breathless and his voice had that shaky quality that turned Bruce on like crazy. He moved until he was face to face with the brunette.

“I want to try something.” Bruce kissed him lingeringly. “I want…. I want you to fuck me!” Jan moved back in something like shock and Bruce was afraid he’d said something wrong. “If you want to.” He added quietly, running his fingers across his lover’s sharply defined jaw.

“I…. I don’t know. I’ve…. I was with a few girls back when I was sixteen or seventeen but it’s been years and years since I’ve…..done that.”

Somehow Bruce wasn’t surprised that Gerard had never permitted Jan to take the dominant role. “It was just an idea. If you don’t want to….”

 

“I want to!” Jan interrupted quickly, then smiled as if embarrassed by his eagerness. “But…. well, I may not be very good. I don’t think I would last long.” he looked down at where his fingers were stroking Bruce’s chest, acting so bashful over what he just said that Bruce couldn’t help himself, he seized him in a deep, torrid kiss.

“It will be good, believe me! It’s you – how could it be anything less than incredible?!” 

Jan didn’t answer, he just began kissing Bruce. Heady, scorching kisses, his tongue exploring and entwining with Bruce’s own, his fingers trailing swirls through the thick straight hair on Bruce's chest and slipping lower. They hadn't expected to stay the night so they hadn't packed anything but fortunately there was a travel-sized bottle of lotion in the bathroom that would serve a purpose other than what was intended. Bruce watched Jan’s shapely ass as he darted in to get it and became so anxious that his hand was on himself by the time Jan returned to the bed.

Jan slapped playfully at his arm, “Hands off or you’ll have to finish by yourself!”

“Oh no,” he grabbed the blonde and pulled him down on top of him, “nothing doing!” He reached around and grabbed Jan’s buttocks, holding him still while he moved against him. “You’re going to deliver, mister!” Jan descended with another sizzling kiss and Bruce opened his legs, circling them around Jan’s lithe thighs. Jan seemed to have forgotten about his initial hesitation, he was letting instinct take over and he did for Bruce what Bruce always did for him, preparing him carefully and distracting him with his mouth until the sting of the first intrusion of his fingers faded. Looking at his lover so close to him, eyes glazed with arousal, long honey gold hair falling around his face, Bruce was overcome with need.

“Now, Jan! Come on, I need you in me!”

Jan let out one of his low, sexy moans and he replaced his finger with himself, moving slow and careful. Bruce could tell how much the other man was enjoying this and as soon as he felt his lover fill him he, too, felt a sense of completion, like somehow this sealed their bond and made them equals in the relationship. He had never before especially liked being on the receiving side of the act but this was different. He trusted Jan but more importantly, he loved him.

Jan was totally lost in the sensation now and he managed to continue to kiss Bruce even as they each felt the first tingles of their orgasm building. Then Jan sat back and somewhat to Bruce’s surprise he put his hands beneath Bruce’s legs and increased both pressure and tempo. The expression on his face alone pushed Bruce to the pinnacle and when Jan opened his eyes and looked down at him he felt himself go over the edge. Jan quickly followed, crying out with a long keening sound that Bruce was sure would give him wet dreams in the future.

Jan put everything into making love with Bruce and as soon as the tremors subsided he fell across Bruce, completely spent. Bruce held his head to his chest, softly stroking his mussed hair and feeling his breathing slowly return to normal, pressing an occasional kiss to the top of his head. He himself was stunned by what they’d just experienced together and he sensed it was some sort of milestone for them, that some of the doubts he knew Jan still held about their relationship had been erased. Perhaps not all of them, that would take time, but it was a start.

Bruce was awakened by Jan’s soft kisses to his face and neck and after a little dalliance and taking advantage of the free breakfast the two men caught a bus to the studios, arriving before Johnny had even unlocked the place. Mally and Nicko arrived with Johnny and now that they were more accustomed to playing together they easily recorded the final two tracks by mid-afternoon. When he was satisfied, Johnny explained that it may take a couple of weeks before he had the finished mix but he would be in touch as soon as he could.

“You four play well together,” he told them as they all sat in the sound room talking. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you could line up a few gigs for yourselves. I’ll be happy to recommend you.”

“I can’t do any more than these occasional studio sessions for you, John,” Mally spoke up. “I have the full-time job and my piano classes here three nights a week. Judy’s seven months pregnant and I don’t want to be too far from home.”

“I’d be game,” Nicko said. “I’m footloose and fancy free and I miss being in a band. I’ve got the job at the plant with Mal but if I could make money from music, I’d rather.”

“I don’t think we want to rush into booking gigs, it may take some time to line up a bassist anyway.” Jan said, glancing at Bruce and seeing him nod. 

“And I want to work on my voice some more before committing myself to anything. My throat already feels raw from the singing this weekend, I need to work on a technique that’s easier on my voice.”

Johnny nodded, “I understand. I agree, Bruce, that in spite of your obvious natural ability you do need to develop a method that won’t strain your voice. Whenever you feel ready let me know, I’m sure I can use my connections to get you some work.”

They thanked Johnny, asked a few more questions, and Johnny paid Nicko and Mal for the weekends work. They all walked out together, noticing with surprise that it had started to snow while they were in there. Nicko spoke up.

“How about we all go to the pub across the street for a pint of two? I know I could use one!”

They were all agreeable and Bruce was glad he’d just gotten paid because he didn’t want to have to ask Jan to pay for his drinks. The pub was quiet, it was Sunday and still fairly early so they took a table rather than sitting at the bar. Nicko seemed to be familiar with the place, Bruce got the feeling he would be familiar with most of the pubs in town, and the first round was on him. They each bought a round and by the time it came full circle none of them were feeling any pain. Bruce found he genuinely liked both Mally and Nicko, they were both easy to get along with once he got used to Nicko’s wisecracks and they talked knowledgeably about music as well as myriad other subjects. Jan was perfectly at ease with Mal, Bruce noted, and he sensed that the other man was deliberately avoiding any references to their former band. No doubt it was a sensitive subject for everyone involved but he caught Mally looking between him and Jan a few times and knew that he had guessed the nature of their relationship. 

After some time Bruce noticed with some surprise that it was getting late. The last bus for home left at nine and he drew Jan’s attention to the fact they should think about leaving.

“Right, I had no idea it was so late!” the blonde remarked. “I’ll just run to the loo and we can be off.”

After he got up and left Bruce was listening to some story Nicko was telling about some escapades his old band had gotten into when out of the corner of his eye he saw Mally seem to freeze, staring across the room toward the bar. He followed his glance but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Nicko noticed it too. “What’s that matter with you, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse than a ghost.” Mally said quietly.

Both Bruce and Nicko looked at him questioningly so he reluctantly explained, keeping his voice low even though the people he was looking at were some distance across the room.

“It’s that guy, the bald one.”

They looked. A burley guy with a shaven head and a tattoo of a crucifix on the back of his head was at the bar talking loudly with two of three other similar looking types. He looked like a Hells Angel and was being rather loud but otherwise not doing anything unusual.

“Well? What about him? He looks like a bad piece of business.”

“He is!” Mally seemed subdued, his voice barely audible. “But what the fuck is he doing up here?!”

Suddenly Bruce figured it out. “He’s from London, isn’t he?”

Mally just nodded, stealing a quick look toward the bathrooms to be sure Jan wasn’t coming back yet. “Yeah, umm, you know about.. about Gerard?”

Bruce just nodded. “I know too much about Gerard.”

“Gerard started hanging with that guy,” he jutted his chin toward the bar, “almost as soon as we got to London. They call him Turk. The guy was a dealer and I think he was a lot more.” Mally lowered his voice even further. “I think he murdered Gerard!”

Bruce felt his heart jump and he quickly looked at the thug. “Why?” he wondered aloud.

“Gerard always thought he could handle anything, he thought he could control everything. He started selling for Turk but then when he started using he started skimming the profits. “ he gave a snorting laugh. “He didn’t think anyone would notice!”

“Jan never knew Gerard was dealing did he?” Bruce wanted to confirm this.

Mal shook his head. Jan was on his way back to the table, weaving his way through the patrons so he spoke fast. “He had no idea! Jan is the kind of person who wants to see the best in everyone, he didn’t even notice the signs.” Jan was almost back to the table so Mally added quickly. “You’re good for him, Bruce. I can see that.”

Bruce didn’t have time to reply, Jan was tapping him on the shoulder. “Ready to go home?”

 

During this whole exchange Nicko was looking from one to the other of them but showing a sensitivity that Bruce wouldn’t have thought him capable of by not interrupting even though he must have had a thousand questions. Now he stood and clasped Jan’s hand, then Bruce’s, then said “Aw, fuck it!” and gave them each a brief hug. “You guys remember me if you ever need a drummer, all right?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we do!” Jan grinned, then he turned to Mal. “It was great working with you again, man! Thanks for helping out!”

“Anytime, Jan, you know that! Stay in touch, okay?”

Jan nodded, smiling. “We will.”

Bruce echoed that and added a quiet “thanks” to Mally. It meant a lot to him that someone who had known Jan as long as Mal had said he thought Bruce was good for him.

Bruce and Jan were just in time to catch the last bus and once they were in their seats Jan looked over at Bruce with a smile. “I’ve been wondering if we’re going to have a repeat of our last bus ride home?”

Bruce laughed but laid his hand on Jan’s thigh. “I think this time we should wait till we get home. I want you naked and laid out on the bed so I can access every square inch of you!”

Jan put his hand over Bruce’s and squeezed. “That sounds like it’s worth waiting for!”

They rode home in a companionable silence holding hands but Bruce’s mind went back to the man Turk, the one suspected of killing Gerard. Bruce had seen a number of men like him during his time living on the streets and he avoided them like the plague. They were dangerous, very dangerous, and the idea of this person being so close to home was alarming. Men like that travel in packs, they’re members of gangs or underground organizations and Bruce’s street sense told him that Turk was here to expand his territory. He knew it didn’t really affect him personally but if this guy actually killed Jan’s former lover he felt a kind of personal interest. His intuition told him he hadn’t seen the last of Turk.

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

 

Over the following week Bruce and Jan fell into a comfortable routine. Though Bruce had to get up and leave for work earlier than Jan, Jan would get up with him and they would have coffee and a bite of breakfast together. Mornings became a mellow time to talk and outline their respective days and Bruce always lingered until the very last minute before leaving to catch the bus to work even though it meant he had to jog to the bus stop to get there in time. It was worth it because of the long, lingering goodbye kiss at the door, a kiss that sometimes resulted in Bruce having to pull his jacket tight around his waist to hide the erection he couldn’t seem to help getting whenever Jan kissed him.

The evenings were a time they could relax together and when Jan had to work at the shelter Bruce went with him to unofficially help out. It didn’t occur to him to simply sit at the apartment alone when he could be with Jan and a part of him was finding out, somewhat to his surprise, that helping the guests at the shelter gave him a feeling of satisfaction. If Jan was busy with something Bruce would welcome any new guests and show them around. A good percentage of the people who came to the shelter weren’t the washed-out drunks or ex addicts he had known when he was homeless but were honest people genuinely down on their luck and he came to realize why Jan was so dedicated to his work there. He may have originally started volunteering out of some kind of guilt over Gerard but he now did it out of a sincere desire to help. 

On the evenings when Jan didn’t volunteer and if Mrs. Gers didn’t need them to help with anything they spent their evenings sitting close of the sofa, sometimes watching something on Jan’s tiny television but more often they just talked. And that week their conversation inevitably drifted to music. Johnny had suggested they get a band together and they had to eventually act on that suggestion. Johnny had invested in them, it wasn’t cheap to make a demo even in a small studio like his, and they were obligated to at least make some kind of effort to make it worth his while. They could potentially enlist Nicko as a drummer, he seemed eager to join a band again and they could adjust to his quirky sense of humor, but they knew of no one else. Jan had long since lost touch with anyone he had once known in the business other than hangers-on like Cullen.

“I don’t think we should rush into this anyway,” Jan told him. They were sitting on the couch on Friday evening, Bruce lying back with his feet up and Jan sort of lying against his chest. “Johnny won’t pressure us, he knows these things take time and like I told you, he doesn’t really do these things for the money anyway.”

“No, I know but I spent a good part of my life as a thief and I don’t want to feel like that anymore. Unlike some people I didn’t enjoy it, I just stole to survive.”

Jan turned to him and kissed his cheek, “I know, and I understand why you feel like that but trust me on this. Neither of us are ready to start a band.”

“You are,” Bruce said positively. “You don’t even have to think about it when you play, you never miss a note.”

Jan gave a self-depreciating half shrug, he was awkward with compliments but Bruce could tell he was pleased. “well, maybe my playing is good enough, but….”

Bruce knew what was left unsaid. Jan wasn’t emotionally prepared for being in an active band, for being on the road going from gig to gig the way he had done with White Spirit. Even after two years Gerard’s death was haunting him more than Bruce wanted to admit. Part of it was probably because Jan had been so young when he first got involved with Gerard, he’d only been seventeen, and to Bruce’s knowledge he hadn’t been in any other relationships other than sporadic dates before Gerard. 

But Bruce knew the main reason Jan was having so much difficulty moving on was because of how Gerard had treated him. Playing him like a yo-yo, being good to him then being callous and cruel, hurting him by cheating on him and, Bruce had no doubt, leading Jan to believe he didn’t deserve anything better. He felt a surge of anger toward the dead man so strong it made his muscles tense up. Jan looked at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking about how I don't deserve you."

 

Jan laughed softly and turned his body so he was virtually sitting in Bruce’s lap, “Are you trying to charm your way into my pants?”

“No. Well, yes if that works, but I was being serious.” Bruce put his hand on the back of Jan’s head and drew him close for a kiss. “You’re a beautiful person, inside and out. I love you.”

Jan’s eyes sparkled with moisture, “I love you too, Brucie. It was the luckiest day of my life when you walked into the shelter. I never knew…..,” he trailed off.

“Never knew what?” Bruce asked softly.

“I never knew what it felt like to be with someone who cares. Who really cares. I thought I would never know.”

“And I thought I would never care for anyone.” Bruce pulled the blonde in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate.

On Friday Jan had to work but Bruce didn’t, he still had a bit of money left so after trying and failing to get a Wi-Fi connection on Jan’s old laptop he gave up and left the apartment with the intention of buying some food and attempting to cook dinner for Jan. It was a clear, crisp day and Bruce walked a few blocks to the nearest grocers, his hands in his pockets and his head down, lost in thought considering what he may be able to cook. He’d never done more than heat up a can of soup in his life. Steaks, perhaps? He was wondering if he should buy some potatoes too when someone clapped him on the arm. Startled, he looked up. It was Cullen, and he was as high as a kite.

“Hey, mate, remember me?! Yeah, yeah I know you do, you punched me, remember?”

Bruce scowled. He wanted nothing to do with this loser but Cullen began walking next to him. “What do you want?”

“Nothing, nothing, mate. Just wanna say I didn’t mean to piss you off that day, y’know? I don’t even know what made you so mad.”

He probably didn’t remember, Bruce realized. He was at that stage of addiction where the brain cells were becoming permanently fried, where the only thing one could focus on was obtaining their next fix. Bruce was familiar with the effects of various drugs, he’d seen users often enough through the years, but Cullen didn’t seem to be on crack or meth this time. If Bruce wasn’t mistaken, he was high on smack. It was the first evidence of heroin use Bruce had seen since arriving in this town. He didn’t reply to Cullen but it didn’t deter him, he kept pace with Bruce, weaving slightly in his gait, and continued talking in a slightly slurred voice.

“It was something about Janick, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that what we were talking about, Bruce? Ha, see, I remember your name! It is Bruce, right?” When Bruce still didn’t reply Cullen plucked at his sleeve, “Hey, man, no hard feelings, right? You don’t have to be so down, you know?? I know a guy, he can make you feel good. Real good! You should come with me and meet my new friend Turk!”

That got Bruce’s attention. He must be talking about Gerard’s alleged murderer! His instincts had been right; Turk was in the area and selling heroin. Shit! This was a nice town, a clean respectable town. Sure there were some drunks and pot heads and even casual use of drugs like crack and meth but heroin was another matter entirely. Bruce had seen the end results of rampant heroin use, he had stumbled across comatose bodies lying in doorways with needles still in their arms, he’d witnessed that one murder and had known of a few more. Bruce felt a sense of righteous indignation he would once have never believed himself capable of. This was his home now, this was where he lived and worked and hoped to build a future with Jan. Turk wasn’t just a dealer, he was quite likely a cold-blooded killer. But perhaps he was just scouting the area, maybe he hadn’t moved in yet. On impulse, Bruce turned to Cullen, “This new friend of yours, what else has he got?”

“Anything you want, mate!” Cullen grinned. “Come on, I’m on my way to meet him now.” He plucked at Bruce’s sleeve again.   
Bruce’s intent was to learn more about the local drug trade in order to see how deeply it was rooted and where Turk stood in it. He walked along with Cullen tuning out the man’s incoherent ramblings until they arrived at a nondescript back-street pub called The Royal Arrow, away from the main part of town. Bruce had never been there before but it was much like a hundred others he had visited with a worn, bare wood floor, a chipped and scratched bar along one wall, and an older model TV droning over the dusty liquor bottles behind the bar. There were only half a dozen people present and one was unmistakably Turk. 

The brawny shaven-headed man turned when they entered and burst out laughing at the state Cullen was in. “Told you that was some good shit! Well worth the money.”

The open way he was speaking Bruce convinced Bruce that everyone present was in league with Turk, then the big man turned to him. He was over a head taller than Bruce but he had lived amongst men of this type for his entire adult life and he wasn’t intimidated. Close up, though, the man did have a menacing look. In addition to the tattoo on the back of his head he had a spider web tattoo across his neck and his arms were completely covered with ink. He nudged the weaselly-looking man next to him with his elbow, “Look, Cullen here is already bringing in new customers! And who might you be?” He folded his arms and glared at Bruce but Bruce was familiar with all the tricks men used to make themselves look threatening and he glared right back, slipping almost unconsciously into the attitude that had allowed him to survive for so long living as he had. He met the man’s eyes squarely.

“Does it really matter who I am as long as I have money?” he grinned, knowing that it didn’t.

“No, really couldn’t care less,” Turk said dismissively. “Tam, see what he wants.”

The greasy looking man stood looking at Bruce expressionless.

“What have you got?” Bruce asked.

The man merely shrugged, “Little of this, little of that. Whatcha in the mood for?”

Bruce straddled a barstool. “Let’s have a drink while I think about it.”

As he expected, Tam sat down with him and the nondescript guy behind the bar brought them each a pint of cheap ale.

“Haven’t I seen you at the Shelter over on Farley Street?” Tam asked after they’d taken a drink.

“Yeah, I stayed there a few times when I first got to town. Found a job now, though.” Bruce said casually. “I don’t remember seeing you there, I figured you for a local.” He wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember Tam, the man was one of those types who faded into the background and anyway, Bruce had been totally focused on Janick. 

“I’ve been around.” Tam shrugged. “Where did you come from? You don’t sound like a northerner.”

Bruce smiled a smile that was as good as saying ‘none of your business’. “I’ve been here and there. That guy Turk looks familiar, though.”

“Turk’s from London.” Tam said then he clamped his mouth shut, belatedly remembering he wasn’t supposed talk about Turk to anyone.

“Probably saw him there then.” Bruce said, taking another drink. Inwardly he cursed Tam’s suddenly remembering to watch his mouth. Fortunately Cullen was too high or too dumb to be as careful, however.

“Yeah,” He sat on Bruce’s other side, once again clapping him on the shoulder as though they were old friends, “and it’s about time we got someone around here who can get their hands on some quality stuff! Hey, Bruce,” he whacked Bruce’s shoulder and it took every bit of Bruce’s self-restraint not to punch him again, “did you know Turk knew Gerard down in London? You know, Jan’s old boyfriend?”

Bruce froze. The last thing he wanted was to draw any attention to Jan. “How the hell would you know that?” he snarled, turning to Cullen.

Cullen was oblivious to the menace in Bruce’s tone, “we were partying the other night listening to my old homemade tapes of local bands and I asked him if he ever heard of White Spirit. And he did, didn’t you Turk?” Turk had just come out of a back room and passed behind them.

“Didn’t I what?” The big man looked at Cullen with the kind of patronizing humor one gives a hopeless burnout. 

Bruce instantly regretted the whim that made him follow Cullen to this pub, he hadn’t bargained on drawing Turks attention to himself or least of all to Jan. He had hoped to sit quietly, watching and learning to determine how serious the drug situation was becoming.

“You knew Gerard, White Spirits drummer, down in London a few years ago.” Cullen was grinning, acting even more erratic than he had been when they got there.

“I don’t remember everyone I met a few years ago,” Turk made to walk on but to Bruce’s dismay Cullen grabbed his shirttail. Turk shook him off.

“Hey, don’t grab me, all right? Nobody grabs me!” he turned on Cullen and the addict drew back quickly. “Now what the fuck are you yammering on about?”

Bruce felt he had to do something then, anything to divert attention away from the mention of Gerard or White Spirit. “He’s not making any damned sense, I’d better get him home.” In truth he had no idea if Cullen even had a home, he suspected that he didn’t, but Turk wouldn’t know that. He grabbed Cullen by the shoulder to steer him out of there but Cullen shook him off.

“No, I’m not ready to go, I want some more stuff, Turk. Give some to my mate Bruce here too, on me!”

Turk was only giving them half his attention until Cullen grabbed him but now he faced them, “You got the money I’ll help you out but if not…,” he shrugged.

“I got it, I got it.” Cullen’s hand was shaking when he reached in his pocket and pulled out a grimy wad of notes. He was already coming down from his high and desperate for more. Bruce’s only thought was to wonder where the hell someone like Cullen got so much money. He clearly saw hundreds and fifties clutched in his hand. He had a bad feeling about this. Cullen had to be dealing, there was no other explanation. Turk gripped Cullen’s shoulder and the two went behind the bar and through the door Turk had emerged from a minute before.

Bruce let out his breath, only then realizing how tense he had been. Things could have turned ugly given how fucked up Cullen was. It would have been very dangerous to draw attention to a murder Turk committed, no matter how many years had passed. It wouldn’t have been the first time Bruce found himself in a tight spot under the scrutiny of dangerous men but that had been before, that had been his old life. Before Jan.

Shit! Jan! Bruce looked at the clock over the bar. It was just after five. Jan got out of work at five so if he hurried he could get home at about the same time. Jan was always so good about being there to greet him at the door when he came home that Bruce wanted to do the same for him. Turning to leave, Bruce noticed that a few other patrons had drifted into the pub and one in particular caught his eye. It was a man sitting at the end of the bar, a plain looking, plainly dressed man and as soon as Bruce looked in his direction he looked away. The man was too plain, too average, almost deliberately so, and Bruce recognized him for what he was with an instinct born from years of picking pockets and petty larceny. The man was an undercover cop. His first thought was good, the local police were wise to Turk’s presence and were keeping an eye on him, then he realized that he’d just been seen in the company of two known drug dealers.

Bruce had just stepped out onto the sidewalk when someone behind him said “Hey!” He turned to see Turk’s accomplice, the one called Tam, following him out.

“I thought you wanted to buy some shit, mate!” Tam half drew a small packet from his jacket pocket and Bruce raised his hand to wave him off, then he froze. At a bus stop across the street a city bus was idling and Bruce's attention was caught by a glimpse of a familiar blonde head at one of the windows. It couldn't be, but yes, it was Jan and he was looking straight at him. As soon as Bruce looked up he looked away just as the bus started to move.

 

“Hey!” Tam said again, more sharply this time. Bruce barely acknowledged him.

“Some other time, man.” He was already walking away, leaving Tam standing on the sidewalk. There had been something about the brief glimpse he had of Jan, the stiff set of his shoulders or some subtle indication that he couldn’t put his finger on that told him Jan had seen him and had thought the worst. He’d thought Bruce was buying drugs. He had to get home and explain. ‘Stupid!’ he was repeating to himself with every step he took, ‘Stupid, stupid stupid!’ What on earth possessed him to involve himself in this? What did he care if his new hometown was infiltrated by big city dealers? So what if one of the dealers may have murdered Gerard, a man whose memory he half hated anyway? It didn’t have to concern him! He’d spent the past ten years avoiding these situations, avoiding the drug underworld and avoiding giving a damn what happened to others. Now in the space of one afternoon he’d been seen in a known drug den consorting with dealers by not only the local police but also by Jan. It would have been so much easier if he’d continued to avoid becoming attached to others, he thought.

But then he wouldn’t have known Jan. He wouldn’t have known what it was like to be so deeply in love he felt he existed just to be with the other person, so much in love he’d changed the entire direction of his life almost without a second thought. These thoughts were chasing each other through Bruce’s mind as he hurried home, anxious to see Jan and explain the foolish whim that had led him to be at that particular pub in the first place. He ran up the stairs and turned the knob but the door was locked. Perhaps he beat Jan home after all. That hadn’t been Jan’s usual bus, his normal route didn’t do through that section of town so perhaps there had been some traffic diversion or something. His first thought was that Jan went straight to the shelter without stopping home as he’d been in the habit of doing and Bruce phoned there before he even took his jacket off. Rachel the shelter director answered the phone. No, she hadn’t seen or heard from Jan. It crossed his mind that he should go over there and wait for him but something stopped him. He had a sinking feeling that Jan wouldn’t be there that night.

Chapter Twenty One

 

An hour passed. Bruce had been restlessly flipping through channels on the television, not paying attention to what was on the screen, and he gave up and started pacing the room. At six when Jan was supposed to be at the shelter he phoned there again. Just as he’d feared, Jan hadn’t shown up for his shift. It was growing dark, it was still January and darkness came early, but the room was almost completely dark before Bruce thought to turn on a lamp. So many confused thoughts were still going around and around through his mind. He understood emotions better now, knowing Jan had shown him that sometimes feelings could be good, positive things and shouldn’t be avoided, but they made life so complicated!

The evening passed agonizingly slowly and Bruce’s worry and anxiety grew. Where was Janick?? Had something happened to him? Or……..or had he left him? Broken up with him? God, where was he??

At eight Bruce forced himself to sit down and think. His stomach felt like it was twisted in a knot and it took him several minutes to organize his frantic thoughts. If Jan wasn’t here or at the shelter, where could he be? Then Bruce slapped himself on the forehead, hard. His mother’s house, of course!

He couldn’t remember exactly where the Gers home was, he had only gone there with Jan, but he knew the general neighborhood and caught a bus going to that area. A hollow feeling was settling over Bruce during the bus ride and when he got off at a corner in the residential area he felt more afraid than he had ever felt sleeping in doorways in the worst part of the city. The possibility of being robbed or killed hadn’t frightened him nearly much as the thought that he might lose Jan. It had started to sleet by now but he barely noticed. All the houses here looked the same so he had no choice other than walk until he saw something familiar.

It took nearly forty-five minutes before he chanced upon a street lined with the same large trees that had grown in front of Louise’s house. A minute later he spotted it, a brick home set back from the street, and he took a deep breath before walking up and ringing the bell. If Jan wasn’t here he didn’t know what he would do.

Louise Gers answered the door and her eyes widened in shock. Bruce was unaware of how he looked, soaking wet with ice crystals clinging to his hair.

“Bruce! My goodness, come in, you’re freezing out there!” She stood back and he stepped over the threshold, making a futile attempt to shake the water and ice from himself before dripping on her carpeting.

“Is he here?” It was all he could think to say.

Louise’s face grew grave and she led him into the lounge where a small fire was burning at the hearth. She nodded.

“I don’t know what happened, Bruce, he wouldn’t tell me. He came in and went straight up to his old room a couple of hours ago. He must be playing one of his old guitars up there, I heard music a little while ago, but he refused to come down for dinner.” She stepped closer and laid her hand on his arm. “I haven’t seen him like this since the day he got the news about Gerard. What happened?”

Bruce shook his head, unable to explain because he wasn’t sure himself. “He saw me at the wrong place at the wrong time and he must have misunderstood. I…..” he drew a shaky breath, he hadn’t realized until then how close he was to tears, “I don’t know what I would do if he…. if he doesn’t want me anymore!”

 

She didn’t reply directly. “Sit down, let me get you a cup of hot tea. I’ll be right back.” She strode off to the kitchen with purposeful steps and Bruce sank down on the couch, taking his dripping leather jacket off. When Louise returned he was sitting with his head bowed, elbows on his knees. She thrust a steaming mug in his hands and sat on the chair across from him. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

Bruce did, rather haltingly. He didn’t like to draw attention to his disreputable past but it was impossible to tell the story without alluding to how he understood the mentality of criminals like Turk and how these drug organizations operated. “He must think I’m either using or dealing, Louise. But I’m not! Even when I had nothing I never stooped that low and now that I have Jan…..” he choked up for a moment and amended” …. if I still have him.”

Louise regarded him for a long moment before speaking, “I think you should go up and talk to him. Maybe I shouldn’t let you but I think he needs you, Bruce. Something went out of him when Gerard died and the band broke up, and truthfully the spark was dying in him even before that. He never told me any details about his relationship with Gerard but I knew what kind of person Gerard was and I would hear things around town….….” She broke off and sighed. “If it weren’t for the band getting that contract I think he would have eventually broken up with Gerard, but then they went down to London and it was too late.” She leaned forward, putting her hand on Bruce’s knee. “Go up and talk to him! He cares for you, he cares deeply. I can see it in his eyes, he’s happy again with you!”

Bruce glanced at the stairs and felt his stomach quail with nerves, “I’m afraid to, I’m afraid he won’t believe me!”

She patted his leg, paying no mind to his cold wet jeans. “You won’t know unless you talk to him. It’s the first door on the right.”

Bruce stood hesitantly and looked at the stairs, then slowly climbed them. At the top he paused, then tapped lightly on the door. He could hear soft strains of guitar music inside that stopped when he knocked.

“I don’t want anything to eat, Mum.” came Jan’s quiet voice. Steeling himself, Bruce turned the handle and opened the door. Jan was sitting at the foot of a bed with a battered guitar over his knees and he looked up, his face registering shock when he saw it wasn’t his mother.

“Bruce!” his voice was so quiet Bruce had to strain to hear him. “What are you doing here?”

Bruce didn’t know what to say or where to begin. “You didn’t come home and you didn’t go to the shelter.”

Jan shook his head and looked back down at his guitar, not answering. Bruce crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “I know what you saw, but it wasn’t what you thought!”

Jan’s lips twisted wryly “What else could it be? I know what kind of bar The Royal Arrow is and I know who Tam is. He was handing you something and you were reaching out to take it.”

“I was reaching out to refuse it!”

Jan let out a short bitter laugh “And I’m supposed to believe that?! Why does everyone I fall in love with think I’m so fucking stupid! You wouldn’t have even been there if you weren’t trying to score!”

Bruce sat back on his heels, scrubbing his hand across his face. He knew how tenable his story was, he wouldn’t have believed it himself. “It was stupid for me to go there, but I had a reason.” He didn’t want to mention Turk or Turk’s possible connection with Gerard. Jan was fragile enough right now without dragging Gerard’s name into it.

“Of course you had a reason, there’s always a reason!” Jan’s voice was heavy with bitterness. “Spare me the excuses, Bruce!”

“Aren’t you even going to listen?” Bruce pled.

“Why should I? Your stock in trade is lying and conning people, isn’t it? Isn’t that how you’ve lived most of your life?” 

That hurt, and it went straight through Bruce’s gut like a knife because it was true. He had learned young how to spin a good story, he’d lived by his wits and always had an excuse ready when a cop tagged him for loitering or a sketchy background story when he was trying to find a few odd jobs to do. His banter with the crowd when he was busking was one of the reasons he’d gotten so many tips. He felt tears sting his eyes. “That’s not fair, Jan! You know I’m finished with all that!”

“I don’t know anything; I don’t know you! How long have we been together? Three weeks? A month? I can’t know you in that short a time! Now it seems you’ve been conning me the whole time, using me for sex and a place to stay while you’ve been dealing drugs and God knows what else!” Tears were flowing freely from Jan’s eyes now and his voice was thick with pain.

“Jan, I’m not Gerard!” It seemed there was no choice but to mention the dead drummer, Bruce had to impress it upon Jan that these were different circumstances. Somehow he had to get Jan to understand he was sincere. “I don’t know everything he did to you and I don’t want to know, but I would never hurt you!” 

“Too late!” Jan stood up abruptly, the guitar falling from his lap and hitting the floor with a thump. He didn’t even glance down at it, he just walked to the window and stood facing out into the cold, wet night. Bruce stood, wanting desperately to go over and wrap his arms around him but knowing it wasn’t the time for that. After a moment Jan spoke again, his voice low and dull. “People thought I didn’t know what Gerard was into, that he was whoring around and dealing drugs. I knew, I just thought it was a phase. I thought if he could get that out of his system he would be the happy-go-lucky seventeen-year-old I fell in love with again." He turned to face Bruce and Bruce had never seen anyone look so miserable. “But he didn’t change, Bruce, and it seems you haven’t either. I can’t go through that again, I just can’t!”

Bruce felt a desperate kind of anger come over him, “So you’re going to condemn me without giving me a chance to tell you what really happened?! You’re judging me based on the kind of life I’ve led? You’re the reason I’m no longer living that life, Jan! I…. I can’t lose you now, not over a misunderstanding!!” He’d taken a few steps toward Jan and he suddenly noticed his own cheeks were wet, he’d been crying and hadn’t realized it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried.

Jan’s shoulders slumped, he looked defeated. “You say it’s a misunderstanding. But I know what I saw. Bruce…. I can’t think about this now. I can’t think at all when you’re right here with me.” He turned back to the window. “I’m going to stay here at Mum’s for a while. I need to think.”

“Jan, no! Please, come home!” He did cross over to Jan now and stood at his shoulder, wanting to touch him but not daring to. He knew he’d fall to pieces if Jan rejected his touch. “I love you, Jan! I love you so fucking much it’s killing me!”

He saw the strain on Jan’s face, his profile was rigid, his whole stance emanating tension. “Just…. go back to the flat, Bruce. Let me think. Please.” 

 

“Jan….” Bruce reached out but let his hand fall before touching the blonde. “What can I do?”

“Just go, Bruce. Go home. I have to figure some stuff out.”

Bruce stood there for a few minutes. He could see Jan visibly trembling with emotion, then he turned and slowly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Louise heard him descending the stairs and came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. After taking one look at Bruce’s face she didn’t have to ask what happened. Bruce walked wordlessly to the door, then turned to her.

“I love him, Louise. I love him with all my heart. I’ll be at the flat waiting for him, no matter how long it takes.” His voice faltered on that last word and he left quickly.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Bruce didn’t sleep that night. He sat in the dark in the bed he’d shared with Jan and stared into the darkness, his mood darker than he could remember it ever having been, even after his mother’s death. Even after a beating at the one of the foster homes he’d been sent to after her death. Even after running away at age fourteen, cold, scared and hungry. He tried to reason it out in his mind, to convince himself that Jan just needed to get his thoughts straight and he would be back, but in the bottom of his heart he knew there was no guarantee of that.It was a horrible irony that, in a way, it had been Gerard’s supposed killer that indirectly caused the mess Bruce found himself in now. 

Sunday felt like it was eons long. The flat felt empty and bare without Jan's bright presence and soft voice. Desperate to take his mind off his convoluted thoughts he booted up Jan’s old laptop computer. The Wi-Fi signal was strong today, someone must be working overtime in the nearby office building it was broadcast from, and in a desultory way he looked for the video voice lessons he’d been following. His singing didn’t matter now, he would never sing professionally without Jan by his side with his guitar, but it was something to do and he sat watching and imitating the instructor for hours. It was distracting, he found the process fascinating, but when bedtime came he was faced with another night alone. He slept fitfully out of sheer exhaustion, tossing and turning, finding himself reaching for Jan and encountering a cold pillow instead of the warm naked body he longed for.

The next couple of days dragged on. Bruce had a dull headache but that was nothing compared to the ache deep inside him. His mind was only half on his job and on Tuesday he was loading a pallet when Dave walked by, then turned.

“Bruce! That’s the wrong order, mate! You need aisle F 3.”

Bruce looked up blankly, then checked his manifest. Dave was right. “Oh, right. Thanks, man.”

Dave looked at him curiously then came closer. “Are you all right? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit.”

Bruce realized he probably did. He hadn’t shaved in days and hadn’t even bothered to brush his long hair that morning. “Yeah, yeah. Personal problems.”

Dave nodded. “Me and H are going out for a pint after. You want to come?” 

Bruce was ready to turn him down. After all, going to a pub was what got him where he was. But the circumstances were different and Bruce realized he was lonely. After living on his own for over ten years he’d grown used to Jan’s constant, reassuring presence so quickly that now he missed the sound of another voice. The idea of going home to the empty flat loomed over him.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you by the time clock.”

True to his word, Dave sought him out in the queue at the time clock after work and they drove in H’s old Volvo to a nearby pub. It wasn’t the kind of pub Bruce was used to, it was more upscale than the average working class bar but the atmosphere was convivial and the prices reasonable. Dave bought the first round and after a beer Bruce felt marginally better.

The man behind the bar had a quiet, serious manner and hair even longer than Bruce’s, though his was wavy with an auburn tint. When he spotted the three of them he came over.

“So, have you blokes given any more thought to my offer?”

H merely shrugged and Dave replied, “You know we’re interested, Steve, but it’s just the two of us. Two men don’t make a band. By the way, this is Bruce. He works with us.” Steve actually put out his hand and shook Bruce’s.

Bruce’s natural curiosity fought its way through his misery, helped a bit by the second beer he’d just downed. “You guys are trying to start a band?”

 

“Well, I am.” Steve said, “and these two are pretty decent guitarists but they don’t have the confidence to commit themselves to anything.”

“What type of music?” Bruce was interested now in spite of himself.

“I was in a band before moving here, we played heavy rock and metal mostly. I play bass and have been writing lyrics and I’m ready to do something with it again if I can find a band.”

“I might know a drummer who would be interested.” Bruce said, thinking of Nicko. “He played for my….my friend and I when we recorded a demo a couple of weeks ago. He’s very good.”

“You recorded a demo?” Steve’s attention was on him now and the other two stopped talking to one another to listen as well. “What do you play?”

“I’m a singer, I guess. Sort of. My, umm, my friend is the best guitarist I’ve ever heard.” Bruce got a sudden mental image of Jan whirling across the studio with his guitar and felt his throat start to close up.

“Well these two are pretty fucking good too, they just don’t think they are.” A group of men came up to place their orders then and Steve went off to wait on them.

H spoke up. “You and your friend should get with us and jam sometime, just for fun.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.” Bruce said morosely, gulping down his third pint. “Right now we’re….. not speaking.”

“Oh,” H seemed to sense he was treading on sensitive waters, “sorry.’

“Not your fault, H…., is that your real name, just H?”

He laughed, “It’s Adrian, actually, Davey here just calls me H for some reason of his own.”

The three of them began talking about music and bands then and Bruce had a fourth beer, then excused himself to visit the bathroom. On his way back he noticed a man at the bar that he recognized from somewhere, though it took him a minute to remember where. Then it dawned on him; it was the man he believed to be a plainclothes policeman he’d seen at what he thought of as Turk’s bar. The beer he’d drank coupled with his frame of mind moved Bruce to go over and sit next to the man. He surprised himself with the words he found himself saying.

“If you’re after Turk, I want to help you get him.” He instinctively kept his voice at a low, conversational level.

The man turned slowly and looked Bruce up and down. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, mate.”

Bruce knew better. Even half-drunk he hadn’t missed the spark of interest in the man’s eyes. “Have it your way, then. But I can get closer to him than you can. I know his type.”

The man continued to look at him levelly. “I think you’ve had a drop too much, you must be mistaking me for someone else.”

“There’s no mistake, I know what you are. “ Bruce took a napkin and with a stub of pencil from his pocket he scribbled out the phone number at the flat. “If you change your mind, call me. I want you to nail that murdering bastard.” With that he got up and returned to Dave and Adrian.

 

The next evening just as Bruce was coming home after work the phone rang. All he could think was ‘please let it be Jan, please let it be Jan’ and he snatched up the receiver, wishing fleetingly like he always did that he could afford a cell phone. “Jan…?”

“Is this the man who approached me in the bar last night?” came an unfamiliar voice.

Bruce paused, letting his brain adjust to the fact that it wasn’t Jan, that Jan hadn’t called him after all. “If you’re the cop, yeah.”

“How did you know I was a cop?”

“If you knew anything about me you wouldn’t have to ask that. What do you want?”

“You referred to Turk as a murdering bastard. Why?”

Bruce sank down on the couch and sighed. He’s been drunk and not thinking clearly when he’d impulsively spoken to the cop and he regretted drawing attention to himself. “Just something I heard.”

“If you want to work with me you’ll have to tell me what you know. Can you meet me at McMurtries in half an hour?” He named a pub several blocks away.

Bruce thought. Nothing mattered much without Jan, so why not? “I’ll be there.”

This time the policeman wasn’t dressed like a workingman, he wore a sport jacket and khaki’s and rather than sitting at the bar he was seated at a table near the front, away from the few other patrons in the bar. Bruce wordlessly dropped into the seat opposite him.

The cop studied Bruce for a moment. “What’s your name?’

“Bruce.”

“Bruce what?”

“Bruce Bruce.”

The man thought about that for a second then seemed to decide it didn’t matter. “I’m Inspector Gregory of the National Crime Agency” 

Bruce was surprised. He’d assumed he was just a local city detective of some kind. “And someone like Turk is a big enough deal to get your attention?”

Gregory chose not to answer and he didn’t need to anyway, obviously Turk was important enough to have attracted the attention of a specialized police force. “What is your interest in Turk, Bruce Bruce?” he said the name with just a touch of sarcasm.

Bruce had a natural wariness around any kind of police or authority figure and it was an effort for him to reply honestly. He told the inspector with as little detail as possible that he’d lived in the rough for years but had gotten a steady job and chosen to settle in this town and he didn’t want to see it infiltrated by the big city drug trade. He could tell that the inspector only half believed him.

“Uh-huh. All right, I’ll buy that for now. Now tell me why you called Turk a murderer.”

Bruce was slow in answering, trying to decide how much he should tell. In spite of his distrust of police in general, the inspector struck Bruce as sincere. “I don’t want to mention any names.” He finally said.

“You realize you may need to at some point in the future?”

Bruce reluctantly nodded and the inspector motioned for him to continue. He told of Mally’s reaction upon seeing Turk in the bar in Newcastle, simply referring to him as a friend, and that the friend believed Turk had murdered an old friend of his couple of years ago in London.”

“Your friend could well be right. Is this friend willing to come forward to tell what he knows?”

“If I see him again I can ask him.”

“I will do everything I can to see that Turk never learns of it.” Gregory pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Bruce. “If he’s willing to co-operate have him call me. Now go on. I want to know why you were in The Royal Arrow on Friday with two known local dealers, talking to Turk.”

That was harder to explain because he had no clear purpose when he followed Cullen to the pub but he explained as best he could. Reliving that day was painful, it was the day he’d lost Jan, but he’d committed himself to this now and wanted to see it through. He was aware that having an interest in exposing criminals was another way that knowing Janick had changed his life. Getting involved in any way would have been completely unthinkable to him before he found Jan. 

When Bruce finished, Inspector Gregory sat looking into his barely touched beer for a few moments, then he looked up at Bruce. “Just how do you think you can help?”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

It had been one week since Bruce had seen or spoken to Janick. He wanted to go to Louise Gers’ house so badly it was like a physical craving but Janick had asked for space and he would always give Janick what he needed, no matter how difficult. And it was difficult. 

The evenings were the worst and Bruce had been spending them sitting in the flat looking around at the things Janick had left there, which was nearly everything. Evidently he had clothes and other necessities at his mother’s because he hadn’t returned to the flat, not even while Bruce was at work. Bruce would have known if he had been there, he was convinced of it.

 

But it was Friday and tonight he was sitting at the bar at the Royal Arrow listening to Cullen ramble on drunkenly on the stool next to him. He nodded every now and then to indicate he was listening, which he wasn’t, and continued to do what he’d come there to do – observe. So far tonight he hadn’t seen Turk but he knew he was around somewhere and there were several people going into the back room only to emerge several minutes later and hurry off. Bruce knew they were going to the nearest secluded place to shoot up or smoke crack. Cullen was flying on crack, he couldn’t seem to shut up, but he’d confided to Bruce that he was there to score some smack.

“Why don’t you go and buy some, then?” Bruce asked, anxious to not have to listen to the man anymore. Cullen’s mistaken belief that they were friends could come in handy but he was wearing on Bruce’s already frazzled nerves. 

“Can’t, not till later. Don’t have the money yet.” Cullen had told him, gulping down the drink Bruce had bought him. Bruce had wanted to get him drunk to loosen his tongue but as it turned out Cullen was talking nonstop anyway. And Bruce had to sit close to him so anything he said would be picked up by the microphone Bruce wore under his jacket.

“What do you mean you don’t have the money yet. Why are you here if you don’t have any money?” Bruce grumbled.

“It’s coming, Bruce,” Cullen tried, unsuccessfully, to look sly, “it’s coming.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, not caring if Cullen saw him or not. It was busier in the pub than it had been last time, it was later at night and the people around him were a mix of ordinary pub-crawlers and the shadier looking types that Bruce suspected were somehow connected with Turk. The television was droning on over the bar and a noisy group in the corner were playing pool. Amongst all these people and with the task of helping Inspector Gregory weighing on his mind, Bruce still felt alone and cold inside. He was going through the motions but in all his years as a loner he had never felt so desolate.

Cullen’s topic of conversation wasn’t helping. He was talking about when he used to hang out with the local bands and though he hadn’t mentioned White Spirit by name Bruce knew from their earlier conversations Cullen had spent considerable time around them. He hoped Cullen wouldn’t mention either Jan or Gerard and certainly not the two of them together, and so far he hadn’t. 

A few minutes later a man Bruce had never seen before took the stool on the other side of Cullen and nudged him on the arm. 

“About fucking time you got here!” Cullen turned to the stranger. “You got it?”

The other man was young, probably under twenty, with close cropped dyed red hair and gauged ears. Bruce took note of his distinctive appearance to describe him to the inspector later. “I got it, I had to go the long way around.” He slipped a paper-wrapped bundle from his pocket into Cullen’s. Most people wouldn’t have even noticed but to a seasoned pickpocket like Bruce it was glaringly obvious. It was time for Bruce to step into his role.

“Hang on a bit, mate. Have a beer!” he called over to the stranger. 

Very few people would turn down a free beer and this kid certainly didn’t, he flashed a gap-toothed grin at Bruce. “Right, I could go for that. Thanks, mate!”

The beers were brought and Bruce slipped into the easy banter that had made him a successful busker. “You’re a mate of Cullen’s, eh?”

“Guess you could say that, been working with him a lot lately.” The kid took a long drink. 

 

Cullen chimed in, “Working for me you mean, right Teddy?”

Teddy merely shrugged, “Whatever you say. You get paid, I get paid.”

“Back in a sec.” Cullen got up and disappeared into the back room so Bruce moved over one stool to sit next to Teddy.

Bruce laughed, “He’s not going to be worth shit when he gets back!”

Teddy joined the laughter, “Got that right! Fucking idiot spends the money as soon as he gets it.”

“Maybe he’ll fall in the river and you can have his job!” Bruce joked, ordering them each another beer. He’d been merely sipping his but Teddy downed half the pint in one swig.

“Ha! Work directly for Turk? No way, I don’t have a death wish!” he swiped his sleeve across his mouth, shaking his head. 

‘Maybe now we’re getting somewhere’ Bruce thought. Aloud, he said “Probably has its perks, though.” He felt the small solid square of the transceiver in his pocket and subtly moved an inch closer to teddy.

Teddy shrugged again. “You’re a mate of Cullen’s, you probably know more about it than I do.” 

“Not about Turk, he hasn’t been around long enough.” Bruce was taking a gamble that this was true but he suspected it was. If someone like Turk had been around when he first arrived in town six weeks ago he’d have heard about it.

“Well, he’s around to stay now, I hear. Got an operation going up in Newcastle too, probably going to expand even farther.”

“Wonder why he decided to come all the way up here?” Bruce was being casual, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Teddy gave a snort of a laugh. “Didn’t have a choice, I heard. The boss says to go somewhere, you go.” 

‘Well?’ Bruce thought, ‘go on, already.’ He knew he couldn’t say any more about it. Because of his association with Cullen they were accepting him as one of them and he knew instinctively how to talk and act appropriately, but he couldn’t seem too interested. That would arouse suspicion and these were a suspicious breed of people. Small timers like Cullen or Teddy weren’t as prickly but they might inadvertently mention it to Turk if he asked questions.

Unfortunately, Bruce was able to get no more information that night though he stayed until closing. Cullen left as soon as he bought his night’s fix and though Teddy stayed around he left Bruce’s side as soon as Bruce stopped buying him drinks. Turk made a few brief appearances but didn’t take notice of Bruce, the place was crowded and noisy enough for him to blend into the crowd.

 

That night after leaving the pub Bruce couldn’t face going back to the flat.  He almost hated that place now. It wasn’t a home anymore, not without Janick.  He walked out of the pub into a cold, clear night and walked. He had done a lot of walking in his life while hitchhiking from town to town so he walked for hours, paying no attention to where he was going.  He didn’t care, he didn’t care about much of anything. He didn’t know exactly how to get home but he knew that if he kept walking sooner or later he would see something familiar. It was dawn before he found himself back at the flat, chilled to the bone but it suited his mood perfectly.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

Bruce met with Inspector Gregory at a local café on Saturday, almost late for the appointment because he’d finally fallen asleep just two hours before. He turned over the miniature recorder and the inspector put in earphones in, listening to a bit of what Bruce had recorded, then nodded. 

“This is useful, Bruce. It establishes that an operation has been set up here and it mentions Turk by name. You should know that Turk is just a minor figure in all this; a drug kingpin in London had sent out half a dozen like him to cities around the country. We are very close to getting the big boss but we have to snare the lieutenants at virtually the same time. They would all scatter if we don’t and probably start operating on their own someplace. Anything could happen at any time and the minions will know almost instantly when we nail their boss so I’m going to give you a transceiver.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and extracted a small metal device about the size of a deck of cards. 

Bruce accepted it and looked it over. “What exactly does this thing do?”

 

“It’s basically a one-way radio. It sends anything picked up on it to either myself or one of the local detectives working on this with me. We need to be aware of Turks whereabouts at all times so he doesn’t elude us when everything goes down in London, and anything else you pick up on it could help us build an airtight case against him when we do eventually get him. Just switch it on here,” he indicated a small button, “when you go to the pub tonight”

Bruce didn’t feel like going to The Royal Arrow again. It was a rundown, sleazy pub, none too clean, the bathroom reeked of beer and piss and his experience with such things told him that the beer was watered down. Still, it beat sitting at home thinking about Jan, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking of him as well. Wondering if he would ever come back to him.

“All right,” he put the device in his pocket. “Anything else?”

“Just get as close to Turk as you can. Tam is his closest associate here and you’ve already established a relationship with him so he is probably your best bet. Knowing Cullen has gotten you in but for this he’s useless.” Bruce certainly agreed with that.

Bruce arrived late, there was an even larger crowd than the night before and more of them were the type he instantly pegged as either being in the drug trade or as being users. Both Cullen and Tam were there, though there was no sign of Turk. Cullen greeted him like a long-lost brother.

 

“Bruce!” he clapped him on the shoulder and Bruce caught a whiff of his terrible breath, “Let me set you up with a round, man!”

For the next hour Bruce sat there nursing his beer and getting a feel for things. Turk was obviously using a back room as an office, people came and went much as they had the night before but this time Tam was lurking near the door, acting casual but Bruce knew he was functioning as a bodyguard. Sighing with resignation, Bruce got up and walked over to him. It was time for him to do what he came there to do.

“Hey, Tam,” he sidled up to the hatchet-faced man, moving close and keeping his voice low, “you might be just the man to tell me how I can earn a few quid around here.”

Tam looked at him with interest, “You’re Bruce, right? Cullen’s mate?”

Bruce cringed inwardly at being referred to as Cullen’s friend but he nodded, “Yeah. Cullen tells me a bloke can make some pretty good money around here.”

Tam gave him a long look, up and down. “Maybe, maybe. Hang on a minute.” and he disappeared inside the room. Bruce lounged against the wall and Tam was back a couple of minutes later. He nodded at Bruce, “Come with me.”

Inside the dingy storeroom Turk sat on a threadbare couch against one wall and next to him sat a girl Bruce recognized as one of the local hookers. He ignored her, looking around the room with a half smirk on his face as though he’d seen it all before. In fact he had, a few of the places he’d crashed for the night over the years had been similar, used as bases of operation for low-key money launderers or fences.

 

Turk spoke, sitting up and pushing the hooker aside, “Tam says you’re looking for some work.”

“I might be. Depends on what the work is.”

“What are you good at?”

“I’m a damn good thief. Been stealing shit for years and never got caught.”

“I don’t need a thief. You any good in a fight?”

Bruce casually mentioned a few of the worse areas of London he’d once frequented. “I’d have to be , wouldn’t I?” said with a half-smile.

Turk regarded him in silence and Bruce returned his look levelly. He had faced down people like this before, Turk was like a dozen others Bruce had encountered in his life. “What’s your name?”

“Bruce. Just Bruce.”

 

Turk’s lips twisted in a half smile. “Okay, Bruce. Since you know Cullen and Tam maybe you’re okay. If you try anything,” Turk stood up, towering a head taller than Bruce, “it won’t be pleasant for you. Do you understand me?”

Bruce’s expression didn’t change and he didn’t step back. “Do you have any work for me or not?”

Turk almost smiled. “I might have a few things for you to do but you have to prove yourself.

 

“I’m not going to run drugs.” Bruce said firmly.

“Who said I wanted you to!? I’ve got enough people for that already. I need a bodyguard. Tam here is too scrawny.”

Tam shot him a glare but wisely didn’t say anything. Bruce merely have a half shrug, “Sounds like a piece of cake.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. You’re not going to be armed so anything you have to do, you have to do with your bare hands. Come with me tonight, I’ve got a meeting across town. You’re kind of short, I want to see if people can take you seriously.”

Shortly before midnight Turk and Tam, accompanied by Bruce, left the bar by the back door where there was a car parked. As bodyguard Bruce sat up front with Tam, who drove them to one of the suburban areas adjoining the city. Bruce had never been in this area, it was run down and dirty and reminded him of the neighborhood he’d lived in with his mother in London. They arrived at a house that Bruce at first took to be vacant but once they were inside he could see that all the windows had been painted over with black paint and there were actually over a dozen people inside. The only one he recognized was Teddy, the guy Cullen had enlisted to sell for him.

Most of the people were sitting around on derelict furniture smoking joints or crack pipes but as soon as Turk entered five or six of the men got up and followed him into a side room, closing the door. Bruce stood at the door with Tam watching the rest of the people, none of whom showed any interest in what was taking place inside the room. 

“Why did he think he needed bodyguards for this?” Bruce wondered aloud.

Tam apparently accepted him as one of them now and replied, though Bruce really hadn’t expected an answer.

“There’s rumors of trouble in London so Turk is meeting with his dealers to map out a plan in case something happens.”

Bruce was hoping someone was close enough to pick up the signal from his transmitter, it sounded as though the big boss suspected that the authorities were closing in on him

All at once there was a commotion inside the room and the door was flung open. Turk charged out, shouting instructions at the others.

"What the fuck is going on?" Tam turned to Turk, who was striding purposefully to the door

 

"They've arrested Jamal. We've got to get out of here before they track us down too. Come on!" 

The room was emptying fast, they had all been told to be on the alert for this and to find someplace to lay low for a few days. Turk, Tam and Bruce were almost to the front door when they heard a voice through a megaphone from outside the house. "Everyone in the house, come out one by one with your hands on your heads or we will use tear gas!"

"Fuck!" Turk cursed and turned, running for the back door. He threw the door open only to find six policemen crouched a dozen feet away with rifles trained on the door. "FUCK!!! Son of a bitch!" Turk was livid, and suddenly he had a semiautomatic pistol in his hand, pointing it at the closest of the cops.

"Don't be stupid." one of the cops shouted. "Put the gun down now!"

"The hell I will!"

Bruce and Tam were still just inside the door and suddenly an inspiration ran through Bruce’s head. Bruce’s strengths were in stealthiness, in slipping beneath notice. Turk was focused completely on the cops, so moving fast he hooked his leg around Turks, knocking him to the ground. The gun flew from his hand and the policemen began to move forward, wary in case Bruce or Tam had a weapon.

Turk was attempting to get up and Bruce kicked his feet out from under him again.

"You fucking traitor! Goddamn informant!" Turk screamed at him, jumping back to his feet. He was frantic and furious and as the cops closed in he suddenly pulled a knife from his boot. Rather than attacking the cops, though, he jumped up and swung it in a wild arc at Bruce. Bruce saw a cop lunge for Turk’s arm but not fast enough, Bruce felt the knife rip through the open front of his jacket and bite into his shoulder. Oddly enough, he felt the impact but didn't feel the pain. He watched as the cops took Turk down and disarmed him, another cop cuffing Tam who seemed to be frozen with shock during the few seconds this episode took. Bruce seemed to feel like everything was dim, like he was moving through thick fog. He fell to his knees, wondering vaguely why his shirt felt so hot and sticky. Then he knew no more.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

END OF PART ONE


End file.
